


What Spring Does with Cherry Trees

by lovelyleftovers



Series: Without Knowing How [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Drunk Sex, First Love, Flirting, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, Regret, Rejection, Self-Esteem Issues, Sugamama, papa daichi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-30
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-07-27 17:11:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7626976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyleftovers/pseuds/lovelyleftovers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sugawara Koushi is a barista. He loves his friends. He loves his job. He dreams of vacations to America and never falling in love.</p><p>Sawamura Daichi is interesting, and handsome. But definitely not what Koushi needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,  
> I love you directly without problems or pride:  
> I love you like this because I don’t know any other way to love,  
> except in this form in which I am not nor are you,  
> so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,  
> so close that your eyes close with my dreams.  
> ~Pablo Neruda, _Sonnet XVII_

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Suga’s just Living His Life and Daichi appears suddenly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My words rained over you, stroking you.  
> A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.  
> I go so far as to think that you own the universe.  
> I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,  
> dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.
> 
> I want  
> to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.  
> ~Pablo Neruda, _Love Poem XIV_

“Shou’s in love with a man he’s barely even spoken to—has he told you, yet?”

Koushi watches Asahi’s mouth quirk over his teacup. He nods as his large, dark eyes scan the izakaya. Koushi smiles a little as well, but keeps his eyes fixed on Asahi’s face. While his friend was never one for eye contact, Koushi was never one to shy away from it.

“I hear he dumped coffee on him.”

Koushi chokes on a little laugh, taking a swig of his beer. “On both of them. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”

Asahi hums, his eyes catching on something behind Koushi and tracking its movement. Koushi swivels around to catch a familiar sight: a small, dark haired man in a leather jacket, laughing as he passes by the window. Koushi turns back and raises an eyebrow. Asahi’s face turns pink, and he gives Koushi a shy grin.

“Food’s here,” Asahi says, as if the arrival of tonkatsu will deter Koushi’s insane curiosity.

“Asahi.”

“Suga, please.” Asahi’s eyes dart around before landing on the food in front of them. “Don’t start.”

Koushi starts into his pork with earnest. “I’m just saying—”

“I know.”

Asahi sounds so miserable that Koushi pauses, his eyes glancing up to his friend’s deepening blush.

“It’s not like I’m saying I’m waiting for it to happen,” Asahi says. He looks up and holds Koushi’s stare, his voice calm and steady even as his blush fades across his tanned skin. “But if we meet, I want it to be just because it … _happened,_ not because I’m, like. Creepy.”

“You’re not creepy!” Koushi says immediately.

“Creepy means weird with arduous intent,” Asahi replies dryly. “Can’t you imagine it? ‘Hey, I’ve been staring at you from afar for forever. When my best friend and I meet up every month for dinner, we go to a restaurant I know you walk by a lot and—”

Koushi whips around to see a bright grin under a tuft of bleached hair. He’s looking directly through the window, and after a second, he bangs his wrist against the glass, a cigarette glowing between his fingers. The man behind the bar laughs and waves at Asahi’s crush. Koushi can hear him mutter, “Get back to work, you animal,” but it sounds fond as the man outside waves, sucks hard on his cigarette, and bounces away again.

“Why him?”

Asahi sighs and takes a huge bite of his meal. “He’s vibrant. When he’s around, it’s like everything else around him dims.”

“Jesus.” Koushi laughs and pokes Asahi’s foot with his own. “You sound like Shou.”

The light catches Asahi’s eyes, illuminating their amusement for just a moment. “Just wait until it happens to you.”

“Azumane Asahi.” Koushi levels him with a Look. “You know me better than that.”

“I know.” Asahi throws up his hands in a gesture of peace. “Can we talk about something that’s not Shou, or relationships and the lack-thereof?”

Koushi smiles. “Sure. How’s work?”

Asahi lights up from the inside out, abandoning a bite of food that was about to make its way into his mouth. “Ukai-san had me map out the ground and decide what flowers to put where this year.”

“That’s great, Asahi! I knew he would give you the responsibility if you just asked,” Koushi says.

Asahi rolls his eyes. “Anyway, I was thinking about maybe ordering sunflowers and putting them out near where the athletic fields are.”

As Asahi launches into an explanation about the pros and cons of caring for a patch of tall, temperamental flowers, Suga fills his stomach, drinks his beer, and loses himself in the cadence and ease of a gentle conversation with a good friend.

 

“Thanks for the extra cinnamon in my tea, Suga-kun.” Kura grins and tosses her hair over one shoulder. “Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Koushi laughs and waves her away. “Anything for a loyal customer as gorgeous as you, Ariwara-san.”

Kura gives Suga a look that says she doesn’t appreciate the flattery, but there’s a sparkle in her eye that belies her expression. Suga gives her his brightest smile and waves as she leaves the shop, the bell ringing as the door closes behind her. Koushi unties his apron, moving from behind the counter to lock up.

“You have a great memory, Suga-kun. I don’t know how you can memorize everyone’s names, let alone their orders and preferences.”

Koushi turns to see Takeda emerging from the kitchens. He has a little flour smeared under his eye, but Koushi thinks it’s cute and decides not to say anything.

“Some people just have a knack for it, I think,” he says dismissively. “Are the pastries done for the Ieyoshi wedding?”

Takeda grins, leaning against the counter. “They’re cooling as we speak. I think I’ll hold off on the icing until I get to the venue tomorrow. That way they won’t get soggy.”

“Good thinking.” Koushi hauls himself up on the counter near Takeda and crosses his feet at the ankles. “Slow day today, but I think sales were okay.”

“Our conversion is going to be excellent,” Takeda says, resting his cheek in his hand and smiling up at his employee. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you convince nearly every single person to get at least one sata andagi with their drink orders.”

“They sell themselves, honestly. Who doesn’t love them?”

“Not the point, Suga-kun,” Takdea says.

Koushi kicks his feet out and lets them thunk back against the counter.

“You work hard for me—you always have. Don’t think it doesn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated,” Takeda says.

“Don’t worry, Takeda-san. Your annual bonuses are more than enough to keep me happy,” Koushi says with a laugh.

Takeda snorts. “If only everyone felt that way.”

“Not everyone gets the amount of yen I do in my bonus,” Koushi says.

“That’s certainly true.” Takeda grins. “Although, you’d be making more money at your own business.”

Koushi side eyes his boss. He pauses to choose his next words carefully. “Is that an offer for your job, Takeda-san? Or are you just trying to get rid of me?”

“Neither,” Takeda says. “But if you do not enter the tiger’s cave, you will never catch its cub.”

“I’m happy working here, Takeda-san,” Koushi says. He waves away Takeda’s words. “I don’t need my name on the lease to feel like I’ve found success.”

Takeda smiles, and his eyes soften in fondness. “Why didn’t you go to university, Suga-kun? You have the intelligence, and your work ethic is rivaled by none.”

This gives Koushi pause. He glances at Takeda before turning his eyes to the empty tables and chairs in front of them. He finds he has to clear his throat before speaking. “I always wanted to study in America.”

“America? What draws you there?” Takeda asks, in English.

Koushi grins, jumping at the chance to practice. “I’m not sure. I just love the culture, I guess.”

“Our accents are terrible,” Takeda says, returning to Japanese.

“They are,” Koushi agrees with a laugh. “Perhaps someday we’ll go and watch them roll their eyes at us.”

Takeda chuckles. They relax into the dying light of the late-spring afternoon. Koushi wraps himself in warm thoughts of future vacations to places like San Francisco, and whether or not it would be a good idea to take Asahi and Shouyo. He can just imagine it—Asahi on the verge of a nervous breakdown over something as simple as ordering a drink, and Shouyo running off to scream his excitement at every little thing. Yamaguchi would be the perfect travelling companion, but he’d be more interested in exploring on his own rather than in a group.

“How’s your mother?” Takeda asks quietly.

The rose-tinted images in Koushi’s mind dissolve with the cold splash of reality. He blinks, can feel himself frowning slightly before he manages to reassemble his features into something that resembles a smile.

“She’s okay,” he says.

Takeda looks embarrassed and sad. His eyes crease concern at the corners. “I’m sorry, Suga-kun. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine, really, Takeda-san.” Suga takes a deep breath and hops off the counter. “She could always be doing better, honestly. But for now, she’s okay.”

“You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do?”

Koushi takes air in, holds it there. He concentrates on the hard lump that’s formed under his ribs, expels it on a breath. When he turns a grin on his boss, it feels genuine. “Of course! You could start by helping me clean up around here.”

Takeda consents with a set of upturned lips.

 

It’s the last day of the month, and they’re ahead in sales for the quarter.

Of course, that’s not what Koushi loves about the job, and it’s not on the forefront of his mind. It just makes his step that much bouncier, his day that much brighter. He teases the girls from the university’s swim team for their latest win, and the old professor for finally retiring. He manages to coerce his regulars to buy out all the muffins before noon, and he has dinner plans with Yamaguchi after work. Life is good.

When the bell signals another customer, Koushi is not completely surprised to see Kageyama Tobio. He’s shifting from foot to foot, eyes scanning the crowd. A smile digs creases into Koushi’s skin as he studies the boy’s dark hair, bright eyes, and impeccable taste in clothes—those jeans were practically painted on him.

And the man beside him is just as attractive, though for a wholly different reason. He’s shorter, stockier, his arms round with shifting muscle, and his thighs thick enough to want to sink teeth into. His hair is cropped short, almost military-style, and everything about the guy screams Straight Edge.

“Kageyama-san!”

Kageyama startles, blinking owlishly at Koushi before making his way over. Koushi can feel his friend’s eyes appraising him, but he keeps his gaze on Kageyama’s approaching form.

“Kageyama’s fine.”

Koushi nods, making a mental note of that for the future. Kageyama shifts under his attention, eyes scanning the crowded café once more. Koushi’s gaze slips, as well, moving over to a set of dark, dark eyes, bright as a brand new coin. For a moment, Koushi’s almost startled by them.

“What can I get for you two?” Koushi remembers to ask.

“Black coffee.” Kageyama says it like a question, and Koushi tracks his hands as they move to play with the edge of his hat. 

That must be a nervous habit, Koushi thinks. He’d done it when he’d spoken to Shou, as well. But the way he’s looking around…he’s definitely looking for someone.

“Same,” the mystery man says.

He’s got a nice voice, Koushi thinks absently as he turns around to grab their orders. He quickly scribbles Shou’s number on the cup, and thinks about how excited the redhead is going to be when Kageyama texts him for the first time.

But when he hands the two their respective drinks, Kageyama’s face screws up in the most _adorable_ frown. 

He explains that it’s Shouyo’s number, not afraid to show his own delight over Kageyama’s small, embarrassed smile. 

“At least our trip here wasn’t wasted!” The man slaps Kageyama’s back so hard, it jolts the younger man forward a step.

It is the most dad-like maneuver that Koushi has ever seen performed by a young person with no ounce of irony in his posture. What sort of delicious creature are you? Koushi wonders, eyes dragging over his friendly grin and perfect, square teeth. 

“That’s not…” Kageyama is distinctly embarrassed, turning red straight to the tips of his ears.

“Don’t be shy, Kageyama. Although!” He’s even easier to tease than Shou. Koushi can’t resist. He leans in conspiratorially. “If you hurt him, I’ll have to kill you, probably.”

Koushi is absolutely _elated_ by the horrified expression Kageyama adopts. But the moment is quickly ruined by Yamaguchi squeezing around the counter, a predictable fifteen minutes late for his shift.

“Suga! You’re not Hinata’s mom, you know,” he reprimands.

Koushi grins and winks at Kageyama, although he notes Yama’s messy hair and the dark circles under his eyes. He makes a note to bring it up later as they banter about Shouyo’s lack of basic life-skills. Kageyama seems disgruntled, and Koushi is a little surprised when he manages to turn the conversation back around on Koushi.

“You’re a player, too, aren’t you?”

Instantly, the mystery man’s eyes light up four notches. “You play?”

“Just for fun, now.” Suga smiles, though it feels more wistful than he’d like. “I’m a setter.” 

“Wing spiker!” The man grins. “Kageyama and I are on the team together. Sawamura Daichi.” 

Daichi is a nice name—and fitting, Koushi thinks. “Sugawara Koushi, pleased to meet you.” 

“Well, maybe you two are fated, then,” Kageyama gripes. 

Before Koushi can even think about his words, he’s speaking: “Perhaps.” 

He’d meant it to be teasing, but it sounds serious. Koushi immediately wants to die. His lack of filter is usually okay, but as he watches Sawamura’s face turn red, he just wants to punch himself in the face.

It’s time to retreat, he decides.

“Text him, Kageyama!” Koushi orders, backing away from them. 

“What, I don’t get a number?” Sawamura demands, clearly recovering from his surprise. 

Koushi manages a laugh and pushes his way into the café’s kitchen. “Maybe next time, if you’re lucky.”

He wants to believe that he’ll never see Sawamura and his handsome face again, never have to relive this moment in which he’s made himself out to be a complete and utter ass.  
But he knows he’s a great judge of character. And by the glint in Sawamura’s eye as the door swings shut with Koushi behind it, Koushi has the feeling that this is just the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've already read Smoke that Roams, welcome to part two! If you haven't, then you don't have to to enjoy this fic--but you might wanna anyway.
> 
> Comments and concerns are always welcome! Love you all, thanks for being here<3
> 
> http://positivecomet.tumblr.com/


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daichi develops a sudden addiction to coffee, and Koushi socializes outside of work.

Daichi goes back to the coffee shop the very next day.

He’s convinced that Sugawara Koushi, barista, is actually an angel. Leaving aside the odd, bright silver hair, the smile that stretched across his face when he’d spotted Kageyama had been too warm, too bright to be aimed at someone he’d only met once. It was as if he were greeting an old friend, and it warmed something in Daichi chest, something that bloomed outward and made it impossible to sleep without imagining a coy smile dimpling under bright hazel eyes.

He had to know him. 

Sugawara is chatting with a girl when Daichi enters the café. The freckled boy from the day before is there, and he gives Daichi a knowing look before he pokes Sugawara’s side and disappears into the back.

Sugawara’s eyes slide to Daichi, but he remains intent in his conversation with the girl. Daichi drifts closer, eyeing the choices on the chalkboard, but mostly keeping his gaze fixed on the way Sugawara’s lips quirk up as he listens.

“Maybe Sawamura-san will be interested, Minabuchi-san.”

Daichi perks up at the sound of his name, the purposefully sweet way it curled off Sugwara’s tongue. When he turns, both Sugawara and the girl he’d called Minabuchi are openly appraising him.

“Sorry?”

Sugawara grins and cocks his head, his bangs fluttering a little across his forehead. “Minabuchi-san was just saying how there are no good men left in the world. But I think you might be a good egg, Sawamura-san.”

“Suga, you are a monstrous flirt,” Minabuchi purrs. Her wide, dark eyes trace down Daichi’s body, but he doesn’t shy away from her attention, no matter how hot his face feels.

“I’m flirting on your behalf, Minabuchi-san,” Sugawara says. “Isn’t she a catch, Sawamura-san?”

“Just Daichi,” he replies quickly. “And, yes, Minabuchi-san is a very lovely girl.”

Minabuchi’s mouth twitches and Sugawara grins.

“Unfortunately, you’re not exactly my type.” Daichi grins ruefully and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Beautiful girls aren’t your type, Sawamura-san?” Suga arches one delicate silvery eyebrow.

“Girls in general aren’t really my type,” Daichi amends. “And it’s just Daichi.”

“You’re in for a battle to get Suga to call you anything that doesn’t end in -san,” Minabuchi says. She sighs and flings her hair off her shoulder. “And it figures he would be here for you. You’re like the gay version of Oikawa, for Gods sakes.”

Daichi lets out a surprised laugh. “Are you talking about Oikawa Tooru? You know him?”

“Oh, please.” She sighs and straightens away from Sugawara. “Every woman with a pulse on this campus knows Oikawa Tooru.”

Sugawara stands as Minabuchi flicks her wrist at them and disappears. His bright, hazel eyes find Daichi’s, but there’s something wrong with his smile, like it’s a little too tight around the edges. Daichi blinks, wondering if he’d said something wrong, but just like that, Sugwara’s expression is open and soft.

“So, black coffee?” Sugawara asks. “Or are you feeling more adventurous today?”

“What do you recommend?” Daichi drifts closer to the counter.

Sugawara hums and watches Daichi approach. There’s something serious in his eyes as he thinks. “I’m assuming you don’t like your drinks too sweet?”

“Not usually, no,” Daichi agrees.

“How do you feel about Cappuccinos?” Sugawara asks.

Daichi scratches the back of his neck and watches Sugawara’s eyes track that movement. “If I’m honest, I have no idea what that is.”

Sugawara’s eyes return a flat, though amused, stare on Daichi. “Do you even like coffee?”

“I do!” Daichi laughs. “I like it black and in a mug.”

“You’re hurting my feelings, Sawamura-san.” Sugawara clucks his tongue and sets about making Daichi’s drink.

“Well, I’m here for your wisdom and guidance, Sugawara-san,” Daichi says.

He leans his palms on the counter as Sugawara shoots him a dark, admittedly non-angelic look. “I really prefer Suga, if you don’t mind.”

“Suga-san it is, then.”

Sugawara—no, Suga—turns away with a huff. Daichi hopes he’s at least smiling a little, and by the look on the freckled kid’s face as he reappears from the door behind the counter, Daichi’s teasing might have had the desired effect. Daichi glimpses a small kitchen, and the soft hint of violins before the door swings closed.

“You smell like smoke and cologne, Yama-chan,” Suga notes. 

He ignores Suga, moving instead towards Daichi. They shake hands, and the kid’s eyes are bright as he searches Daichi’s face. “I’m Yamaguchi Tadashi. If my instincts are right, you’re about to be a regular here.”

“I wouldn’t count on it, Yama,” Suga interjects without looking up from his work. “Every single other coffee shop in the world sells Sawamura-san’s boring black coffee.”

“But this is the only shop that has you, Suga,” Yamaguchi says.

Daichi feels his ears heat up, but before he can say anything, the side of Suga’s hand is buried in Yamaguchi’s side, and the kid is looking offended and wounded as he whimpers.  
“Do a lap, Yamaguchi,” Suga says. His tone is light, but the prim arch of his eyebrow suggests that he’s not totally amused.

Yamaguchi grumbles and slips out from behind the counter, but he’s smiling as he approaches the first table.

Daichi turns back. “Do a lap?”

“That’s what we call it when we check up on who’s in the shop,” Suga explains. He slides the drink across the counter.

In the white foam on the top, he’s drawn a volleyball. Daichi grins and takes a picture with his phone. While he’s busy with that, he says, “How much do I owe you?”

“I’d try it first,” Suga says. “It’s sweet, but not too much. If you don’t like it, I won’t make you pay for it, and we’ll get you something else!”

Daichi’s brow creases a little as he looks up. “It’s no trouble, I’ll pay for it.”

Suga waves his concern away. “Be sure to tag our store on that post?”

“Oh, I’m not posting it,” Daichi says with a laugh. “I don’t have social media.”

“Oh, my God.” Suga claps his hands, hiding a smile behind them. “Can you be any more of a dad?”

There’s a beat of silence where Daichi allows himself to be surprised before he laughs. “You know, you are not the first person to say that to me.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all.” Suga smiles and leans on the counter, bringing him a little closer to Daichi. “You brought Kageyama-kun here so he wouldn’t have to face his crush alone. And that celebratory back slap was truly one for the record books.”

“Ah, I guess that was a little overboard,” Daichi admits. “But this is the first time that I’ve seen Kageyama interested in someone beyond something casual. I’m just trying to encourage him the best I can.”

“I thought it was wonderful,” Suga says. “Now, try the drink before it gets any colder.”

Daichi obediently lifts the cup to his mouth and blows on it a little. He sips it gingerly, letting the taste of sweet and spice wash over his tongue. He makes a surprised little hum in the back of his throat before looking back at Suga.

“You like it,” Suga says. 

He’s obviously pleased that he’d gotten Daichi’s tastes correct. His smile has taken on a more triumphant edge, and his tone is satisfied. Pleasure sounds good in his voice, Daichi thinks. He shoves that thought away before it can get any more graphic than that.

“I like it,” Daichi confirms. “You’re obviously good at your job.”

“Thank you, Sawamura-san,” Suga says.

The bell rings, and Suga’s eyes snap to the door. A flustered looking group of girls stumble in, with dark circles under their eyes. Suga’s gaze flits to Daichi, and he offers him a small smile before meeting the girls at the other end of the counter.

“Project not going well?” Daichi hears him ask. Suga starts making their drink orders without them having to say anything.

“Suga, can you put extra caramel in mine today?” one girl asks. “I’m half-dead, and I deserve it.”

“So, is this your new favorite coffee shop?”

Daichi turns to Yamaguchi, who’s taking his place behind the counter again. “Considering this is the only one I’ve ever been to, I think we can say it’s my favorite of all time.”

Yamaguchi chuckles. Daichi can smell the cigarette smoke just faintly, and he thinks it suits this kid with the bright laugh and long hair. 

“You’re in for a tough go, Sawamura.” Yamaguchi shakes his head and watches Daichi drink. “But you seem like a good guy. I wish you the best of luck.”

He’s gone before Daichi can comment. He wonders what that meant, but quickly becomes absorbed in watching Suga work, a small smile carving its way over his mouth.

 

“No Daichi today?”

Koushi whirls and levels Takeda a dark glare. Takeda merely smiles impishly, wiping his icing-sticky fingers on his apron as he surveys his quiet coffee shop. The light is bleeding out of the sky, and shadows are stretching long limbs across the floor. 

“You are not allowed to be on a first name basis with him,” Koushi says. He sweeps his eyes to the windows, noting the way the little tree by the street is dancing lightly in the wind. “He’s just a customer.”

“A customer who’s basically lived in this shop for the past week.” Takeda smiles and waves at a study group in the back, their last remaining customers. “You’ve bewitched the poor man.”

Koushi pretends this doesn’t bother him, but he still closes the little fridge’s door too forcefully. “I’ve done nothing. I haven’t even given him my phone number.”

“Why not?”

He thinks about Daichi’s smile, the way it’s a smidge wider on one side than the other. He thinks about the rumbling laugh, and how he doesn’t so much as flirt as say exactly what’s on his mind as soon as it enters his head. Koushi’s stomach clenches.

“Because.” Koushi gathers up all the dirty dishes and takes them back to the waist-high sink in the back. Takeda trails after him, not intending to let Koushi leave it at that. “He’s not made for the short-term.”

“It couldn’t hurt to try.”

Koushi doesn’t bother responding, instead letting the sink run while he washes up, the way he knows Takeda doesn’t like. Instead of scolding him, Takeda drifts back to the front of the house, leaving Koushi to his thoughts.

He doesn’t have many of them before his phone starts ringing in his pocket. He quickly wipes his hands off on a nearby towel. He doesn’t bother checking the caller ID, too afraid of missing the call. He hastily hits the answer button.

“Hello?”

“Kou-kun?”

Koushi’s body freezes at the sound of his old neighbor’s familiar voice. “Ando-san. Is my mother okay?”

“Yes,” the older woman seems chastised, though her sigh doesn’t relax Koushi’s now-grated nerves. “Well, she hasn’t been going to work again, Kou-kun. I checked up on her earlier, and she seems fine. But I thought I’d let you know in case it becomes a problem.”

Koushi closes his eyes and leans against the sink. “Thank you for doing that, Ando-san. I’ll be sure to give her a call.”

“Alright. How are you, Koushi?”

“I’m well, Ando-san. And yourself?” He tries to make his voice behave, but it sounds robotic to his own ears.

She chuckles. “Ever the polite one. The Hinata’s tell me that you’re taking great care of their son. Be sure to come with him the next time he visits home.”

“Thank you, Ando-san, I will.”

The conversation is brief after that, but it leaves Koushi feeling drained. He toys with his phone, turning it over and over in his hand, trying and failing to do anything but obsess and worry about his mother. His anxiety is a wild animal, snarling and clawing at the inside of his gut the longer he feeds it.

“Suga?”

Koushi starts and turns around. Takeda’s brow is furrowed, his wide, large eyes brimming with concern. He takes in Koushi’s hunched shoulders before Koushi can convince himself to straighten them.

“Is everything okay?” he asks slowly.

“Of course,” he answers automatically. “Everything’s fine, Takeda-san.”

Takeda doesn’t seem convinced, and it’s apparent in the downward twitch of his lips. Koushi lets his brittle smile shatter between them.

“Take the rest of the night off,” Takeda says. “That’s not a request.”

Koushi wants to argue—he does. He even opens his mouth. But all that comes out is a resigned sigh, and he rubs his fist against his forehead wearily. “Okay.”

Takeda nods once before returning to the front. Koushi spares one last glance at the dishes, wonders how angry Takeda would be if he stayed just to clean them. He decides that the reprimanding wouldn’t be worth it.

As soon as he exits the shop, his feet carry him down the sidewalk to his favorite bar. It’s closer to campus, and known for not checking the ages of its patrons. It’s where he takes Yamaguchi and Hinata, because he knows he can keep an eye on them and everyone can have a good time. Asahi comes, too, sometimes. He’s just not much of a drinker.

Koushi steps through the door to the bar, letting the smells of beer and sweat wash over him. It’s familiar, and the promise is enough to loosen the muscles between his shoulders. He takes a deep breath before he starts towards the bar.

“Suga!”

Koushi jerks in surprise, turning on heel. A part of him wants to tuck tail and retreat at the sight of Daichi, grinning and pink cheeked, waving at him from a booth to the right. He’s sitting with a member of the volleyball club, one that Koushi recognizes from the shop.

Koushi looks longingly at the bar. Maita Haru catches Koushi’s eye and gives him a wave. He’s smiling, and Koushi wonders if he’d ended up getting with the girl he’d been pining after. It’d been a while since Koushi had been here. Managing a slight wave himself, Koushi steels his smile and heads off towards Daichi’s table.

“It’s great to see you,” Daichi says as he approaches. “This is the first time I’ve seen you without your apron.”

“Ah, well. Not much of a difference, is it?” Koushi tugs at the collar of his white dress shirt. “I just came from there.”

“I figured.” Daichi gestures to his friend. “This is Oishi Yuri. He’s—”

“Libero, right?” Koushi dips his chin towards Oishi’s surprised expression. “You like your coffees with extra vanilla and caramel.”

“I’m surprised you remember,” Oishi says. 

Daichi chuckles. “Suga knows just about everybody.”

“Just everyone who comes to the shop,” Koushi says.

“Suga!”

Koushi turns to see Haru making his way towards them. He turns more fully, eyeing the glass of beer and shot of clear liquid in Haru’s hands.

“Are we celebrating?” Koushi asks as he reaches them.

“I didn’t know what kind of day it would be,” Haru admitted. “I brought your favorites.”

“I can see that.” Koushi smiles and gestures between them. “Are you going to have the leftover?”

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you give one to your friends?” Haru gives Daichi and Oishi a pointed look. “Which one of you poor bastards is attempting to squire Suga away from his tall tower of impenetrability?”

Koushi can feel a small flush worming its way up his neck, but he fights it down. “They’re customers,” he grits out. “And also, language choices.”

“It’s me,” Daichi says through an easy grin. “Though, I know nothing yet of the tower of impenetrability.”

“Oh, God.” Suga grabs the shot out of Haru’s hand and takes it. He trades the empty glass for the beer and takes a large swallow. The banter is making him feel more normal, but this isn’t the direction he wants to take it in. “There are no towers. And aren’t you working, Maita?”

Haru waves his comment away. “The day I start doing this job correctly is the day you start calling me by my first name. I’ve only been serving your booze for the last, oh, three years?”

“So it’s not just a work thing?” Daichi’s dark eyes flit between Suga and Haru. “Although, I’ve been upgraded from Sawamura-san to Daichi-san.”

Haru gapes at him. “Oh, my God. He must like you a lot.”

Koushi jabs his hand into Haru’s gut, watching him impassively as he sputters and curls into himself. After sucking down another good gulp of beer, Koushi turns his eyes on the friends.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your hangout,” he says. He nods at Daichi. “Good to see you again.”

“You can stay!” Daichi scoots farther into the booth so there’s enough room to accommodate Koushi. 

“We don’t mind, really,” Oishi says. There’s more than a little curiosity in his voice. Koushi wonders briefly if Daichi’s ever talked about him. 

“Suga, you’ve finally ruptured my spleen,” Haru whines. He grabs Koushi’s shoulder and jostles him a little.

Koushi hesitates, looking down at Haru. He’d expected to come here and drown himself in sake and beer, enough to lift his mood but not enough to keep him from stumbling home on his own. If he’s not drinking alone, there’s a low chance of letting himself go that much.

“Suga?”

His eyes bounce back to Daichi’s hopeful gaze. Does he know how cute he is? Koushi wonders. His earnestness is a bright shine in his eyes. Koushi sighs and rubs a hand through his hair.

“I’ll get us more drinks,” he says finally.

He has to turn away from the 1,000 watt smile Daichi’s growing, moving to drag Haru back to the bar. Jiro had taken over in Haru’s stead, and he smiles warmly at Koushi as they load his tray up with drinks.

“They look like military kids,” Jiro comments, his eyes glued to Daichi and Oishi.

“The kid on the left, less so. He’s got his hair gelled up like that,” Haru says. “And the blonde is definitely not natural.”

Koushi keeps his eyes firmly ahead, looking up over the bar. “Please stop staring at them.”

“The one on the right is the one who’s after Suga,” Haru explains. “Have you two fucked, yet?”

Koushi glares at Haru. “He’s a customer. It’s not like that.”

“Not for you, maybe.” Haru shakes his head.

“I dunno, Suga. He managed to get you to socialize with them when you’re not feeling well.” Jiro eyes Koushi’s face, his expression turning a little more serious. “Something happen?”

Koushi waves away his concern before finishing his beer. “Nothing I’m not used to.”

Jiro purses his lips but doesn’t comment further. Haru looks between them, a little lost, but pushes the tray over to Koushi without speaking up.

“It’s on the house tonight,” Jiro says. “For getting me a gift for Chiho’s niece. And for landing Haru his ladyfriend.”

When Koushi smiles, it feels genuine and right. “I’d wondered how that worked out.”

“It worked out great!” Haru laughs and slaps his hands on the bar. “You give the best advice.”

“Only because it gets me free drinks.” Koushi winks at them before taking the booze back to the table.

“Do you make it a habit of punching people?” Daichi asks as Koushi slides in beside him.

Koushi hums and distributes the glasses amongst them. “I firmly believe that bartenders and baristas shouldn’t spill drinks or secrets.”

Oishi chuckles. “How much do we owe you for the booze?”

“It was free.” At Oishi’s expression, Koushi shakes his head. “They owed me. It’s on the house tonight.”

“Lucky us,” Daichi says. “Thanks for sharing the wealth.”

They make a toast, and Koushi lets the last of his tension melt away in the easy push and pull of getting to know someone new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story isn't really going the way I want, yet, but I'm pretty sure at this point that it's just my style ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> I appreciate your comments and kudos!
> 
> http://positivecomet.tumblr.com/


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daichi isn't around, but is always present. And Koushi makes a bad decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TRIGGER WARNING.** PLEASE READ THIS NOTE.
> 
> I haven't done one of these before, but this chapter is also darker than anything I've published on this site. With Suga, I'm exploring how consensual sex can sometimes feel non-consensual (like when it's being carried out for the wrong reasons). The sex is also occurring when one person is much more intoxicated than the other.
> 
> Because I as the writer feel that it could be troubling for some, I'd like to say that if you're uncomfortable with that thought, or you know anything toeing the line will be harmful to you in any way--even if it just makes you uncomfortable-- STOP READING at "Forty-five minutes later, and Ko is practically dragging Koushi to his apartment." If you feel you would be okay reading about the emotional aftermath of the sex, you can pick back up at "Ko appears right as Koushi is making sure he still has his basics: phone, wallet, keys." If you'd like to skip that, then I wouldn't read the rest of the chapter. I will make at note at the end that briefly touches on what occurred so you can still understand the plot.
> 
> Take care of yourselves<3

Koushi rubs his eyes and swallows a yawn as he watches Yamaguchi unlock the door. He’d been up too late talking to his mother on the phone, had watched the minutes dwindle away and counted down the hours to his morning shift. At least, before the guilt had forced him to finish the conversation with his eyes closed.

“So I hear you had drinks with Daichi. And then refused to give him your phone number.”

Koushi frowns, dropping his hand away from his face. “I love Shou, but he needs to stop gossiping.”

“If it counts for anything, I really had to weasel it out of him.” Yama’s grin is not as innocent as he’d like it to seem.

“Do we have to talk about this?” Koushi whines.

Yama hums and starts checking through the stations. “He’s super hot, Suga, like, way hotter than anyone you’ve been with in a while. Maybe ever. He’s also a good guy.”

“Yes to both of those things,” Koushi says. “Which is why he’s off limits.”

Koushi hears a sigh from Yama, and knows that an argument is approaching. He braces himself for the inevitable impact, but then the entrance door dings.

“Hi, welcome to—”

Koushi swivels around to where Yama’s choking on the rest of his words. With a small crease developing in his brow, Koushi’s gaze lights on their customer. He’s tall, taller than even Kageyama, with bright blond hair and thick rimmed glasses. He’s staring at Yama, too, but his is simply unfiltered surprise with no trace of Yama’s fluster.

“Uh, hi!” Yama squeaks.

“Hey, Yamaguchi.”

Koushi doesn’t hide his stare as he’s passed over with a quick glance before the man approaches Yama’s side of the counter. They’re all quiet while the man’s gaze sweeps over the specials. Koushi watches Yama fidget, something like delighted excitement thrumming through his system.

“I’ll take a large mocha, dark chocolate,” the blond says eventually. "Yes to whipped cream."

Yama nods a little too enthusiastically while he scurries to get that ready. The tips of his ears are turning pink, and Koushi’s questions are just barely holding ground behind his tongue.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” the blond says.

“Uh, yup! For about a year,” Yama replies.

The blond nods. “I usually just go to the café in the library.”

“Their mochas are gross.” Yama laughs, a low amused sound that draws the corners of the blond’s twitch. 

“They are.”

Koushi watches them exchange cash for coffee, the blond’s gaze lingering a little too long on Yama’s face. Yama, on the other hand, is trying so hard to pretend that everything’s normal that he barely looks at the guy at all. 

There’s a pause where Yama twitches and the blond just looks at him. Then, the mystery man leans in and says something lowly to Yama that has his face turning bright red under his dark skin. There isn’t very many opportunities that Koushi gets to see Yamaguchi Tadashi when he isn’t hiding behind a saucy smile or an armor of piercings, and the fact that it’s being drawn out by a ridiculously handsome boy in front of Koushi’s eyes is…well, it’s _delicious._

The blond makes brief eye contact with Koushi, just long enough to nod in his direction, before he’s stalking out of the coffee shop. Koushi waits until the bell dings and the boy is safely out of sight before he pounces.

_“Yamaguchi—”_

Yama howls and darts into the back room. Koushi grins. As if a little distance would be enough to throw him off this scent.

 

Koushi wakes up panting, the hot dampness of his breath reflecting off his pillow to stick to the side of his cheek. He groans and rolls over. His body is thrumming, heat tight in his abdomen, cock straining the fabric of his shorts. He glances to the side—there’s still forty-five minutes until his alarm will go off.

Without warning, the dream comes flooding back. He’d been straddling a tanned, toned man, working himself over on his nice, thick length. He’s at a perfect angle, every downward thrust of his hips glancing off of his prostate, and the hips below his are undulating with ease to help. He remembers pinning the stronger man to the mattress, staring down in warm, dark eyes blown wide with desire and—

Well _shit._ Koushi squirms and grumbles at himself. There is no reason for him to be dreaming of Sawamura Daichi. _Especially_ like this.

He refuses to touch himself out of spite. Daichi is off-limits—he’d just told Yama that yesterday. The heat in his belly fades slowly, like a bone-deep bruise, and leaves Koushi feeling irritable. Like his skin is two sizes too small.

Once he’s calmed down enough to function, he rolls out of bed and texts Asahi for a run. His reply is slow coming.

From: Beard Man  
>>Already at work :(

Koushi throws his phone on the bedside table and stomps out to stew over a bowl of stale cereal.

Work doesn’t go much better.

One of their newer employees doesn’t show up for her shift, and won’t answer her phone. Koushi is stuck manning the front—alone—while Takeda scampers around for a customer who needs last minute party cupcakes.

Once the rush dies down, Koushi is drained and irritable and _hot._ He feels prickly all over, like the pent up feeling this morning has just been magnetized exponentially by the shitstorm. He’s rubbing his hand furiously over his mouth and scowling into an unexpectedly empty jar of specially blended Chai tea when the bell rings. Koushi’s conjures the smile to his face like a well-rehearsed magic trick, and spins around. He can feel his expression twitch in surprise, but he manages to keep it. 

Shiba Ko’s smile is slow and smug, and he doesn’t bother removing his sunglasses as he approaches the counter. “Hey, Koushi.”

“Shiba-kun.” Koushi’s stomach twists a little at his given name. They’re not on such familiar terms anymore, but that never seemed to bother Ko. “Been a while.”

Ko hums noncommittedly. Koushi tries not to squirm over the fact that he can’t tell if the man is looking at him or not. “You look good.”

Koushi waves his compliment away with a smile. He looks the same. Ko, on the other hand, has somehow gotten taller, and he’s traded his shaggy hair for a high fade. He’s left it long enough on the top for his natural curls to bloom at the ends. Koushi remembers what it feels like to run his fingers through that, to grip it reflexively as his breath is punched out of his lungs.

Koushi blinks. That is the last place his mind needs to go right now.

“I’ll take my usual.”

Oh, he’s playing dirty. Koushi turns without comment, not liking the flat expression on Ko’s face, the way Koushi can see his own frozen smile projected back at him in those dark lenses.

Café Bombon, made with sweetened condensed milk and espresso: AKA, the Western version. It’s not even on the menu. Koushi is a little irritated that he still remembers, that he’s pouring the milk as slowly as possible to preserve the extreme coloration, as if he were making this with something like love. But he’s probably just irritated at everything. 

And overthinking again. He hasn’t missed Ko’s brand of flirtation, or the way he tends to fall for it whether he wants to or not.

He sets the coffee in front of Ko, turning back and shifting through the extra bags of tea under the counter. There’s got to be another bag of Chai that he isn’t yet aware of. He hears Ko pick up the cup, but the lack of other sounds let him know that he hasn’t moved away from the counter.

“You still make the best drinks, Koushi.” There’s a soft sigh that sounds a little too manufactured. Another thing he hates about Ko.

“Thank you, Shiba-kun.” Why are there so many bags of red rooibos? He swats them out of the way.

A low laugh curls around Koushi’s ears like a caress. “I’ve been downgraded, I see.”

“First names are reserved for family,” Koushi responds lightly.

“And lovers.”

And Daichi. That thought startles Koushi so badly that he almost tears a bag in half. It was only because he was off the clock, he reasons. And he was drinking. And Daichi doesn’t give anyone much of a choice on the matter. He blinks hard. _Focus._

“Which I suppose we no longer are.”

Koushi’s sucked out of his thoughts and back into the moment. “Like I said, Shiba-kun. It’s been a while.”

There’s a small sound of dismissal. Koushi shoves all the bags back into the cupboard and moves down the row. There shouldn’t be any other bags of tea anywhere else, but it could never hurt to look. Especially since he can keep Ko at his back.

“Working until seven?”

Koushi hums without turning. He feels his heart rattle louder against his ribcage, the bastard. Don’t do it, Koushi, he thinks. Don’t you fucking do it.

“Meet me at our spot.”

Koushi breathes slowly through his nose. He hears the glass clink against the counter and he stands to get his payment.

He blinks at Ko’s back as the man strolls towards the exit. He scrambles to find his voice. “Excuse me!”

Ko turns and gives him a half smile. “I’ll pay you back for it later.”

Koushi opens his mouth to object, but the bell is already chiming out Ko’s departure. He drops his eyes to the Café Bombon. It’s only got a few sips missing at most. He grits his teeth.

He’s an asshole. A fling that only lasted a few weeks. They didn’t even get along.

But Koushi had only stopped sleeping with him when Ko stopped returning his calls. And the sex had been _so_ good.

“Stop it,” he mutters, turning back to the open cupboard. “You’re not that desperate.”

Some instant coffee slides out in a mini-avalanche. Amongst them is a beat up bag of the specialty Chai.

Koushi’s mouth thins into a razor sharp line.

 

It’s just one drink, he thinks. He’s standing outside the tiny izakaya, located on the other side of town from his apartment. He deserves to be paid back for the coffee from earlier.  


I’m not here for sex, he reminds himself. 

Ko is waiting for him at the bar, chatting up a cute girl with thin hips and an overly padded bra. He slips her his number with a wink and sends her on her way when he spots Koushi. At least he has his sunglasses off, Koushi notes with relief. It will make him easier to deal with.

“I’ll take that drink now,” Koushi says flatly. “As payment for the coffee.”

He’s rewarded with a crooked smile. “How about a few?” His dark gaze is sharp enough to draw blood. Another thing Koushi hasn’t missed. 

“I’ll just take the one,” Koushi responds firmly.

They have a few. They don’t talk much, but that was never really their style.

Koushi’s just relaxing into his buzz when Ko slips his hand onto Koushi’s thigh. “It’s really good to see you,” Ko says warmly.

Rolling his eyes, Koushi stares down at his drink. “If you didn’t think it would be good, you wouldn’t have come to the shop.”

“What can I say? I love a man who comes when he’s called.”

He jerks his face towards Ko, feeling like he’s been slapped. Because _what the fuck._

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be like that.” Ko’s hand returns after Koushi flicks it away, and he ignores Koushi’s glare. “You know it’s true, or else you wouldn’t have shown up. You knew how this night would go. That’s why you came.”

Koushi turns his face away, staring down into his beer. He can’t deny it, not really. It makes him feels shitty and wrong. Like the slut that Minabuchi Airi had accused him of being in front of Daichi that one day.

Fuck. Thinking about Daichi makes him feel even worse.

“Koushi,” Ko prompts.

Koushi presses a thumb into his bottom lip and blows out a breath. His dignity and self-respect are crumbling like sandcastles bowing to the tide. He allows himself to see the path he started walking the minute Ko walked through the door, and he feels nothing but dull resignation. 

He says, “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

“I can help with that.” Ko’s smile is slow and filled with teeth. He takes the words for what they are: permission.

Forty-five minutes later, and Ko is practically dragging Koushi to his apartment. When they stumble through the door, everything is exactly where Koushi remembers it being. It’s just as blurry as he remembers, too.

They don’t make it to the bedroom. Ko has lube and condoms stashed in the coffee table drawer. Koushi knows he will barely remember this encounter—thank God—and he gives up thinking in favor of the feeling of hot hands under his shirt and a heavy tongue in his mouth.

“Prep yourself, babe,” Ko pants against Koushi’s neck.

He’s not a fan of foreplay, Koushi remembers belatedly. He wants to say that he’s almost too-drunk for this, almost too-drunk to maintain an erection, so how can he possibly prep himself correctly? But he knows that will just lead to an argument, which will lead to Koushi fingering himself anyway. So he takes the lube and gets to work.

It gets a fuzzier from there. One minute Koushi is working a second finger into his ass, and the next he’s got a throw pillow in his face and Ko grunting behind him as he get fucked.

Maybe I’m drunker than I thought, Koushi wonders absently. He reaches between his legs to find that he’s not even fully hard. Had he been earlier? He gives himself a few ineffective tugs before he drops his hand, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes to fight off a wave of nausea. This position isn’t the best for someone with a belly full of booze, but he doesn’t trust his voice enough to complain.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that. It’s long enough that he’s digging his nails into the edge of the couch and he’s really starting to feel the burn, even though the alcohol. This is when Ko’s rhythm starts to falter, and he climaxes with a groan and a fierce bite to Koushi’s shoulder.

They both breathe heavily for a moment before Ko pulls out of him and disappears. Koushi sits up with a grimace, foregoing cleaning up in favor of pulling on his briefs and slacks. He smooths his shirt and realizes that they hadn’t even bothered to remove it.

Ko appears right as Koushi is making sure he still has his basics: phone, wallet, keys.

“I’ve called you a cab,” Ko says.

Koushi nods. His head feels too loose on his neck. “I’ll wait outside.”

Ko accepts this without comment. He walks Koushi to the door; they kiss briefly and without passion. Koushi walks himself downstairs and sits on the curb. There, shivering a little in his light jacket, and wishes he had asked Ko for a cigarette. There’s a little pinch of anxiety that he’d like to kill with nicotine.

He wonders if Ko still smokes. He remembers Shouyo saying once that Koushi looked cool smoking, and he’d maybe like to take it up, too. He remembers quitting that night. He remembers being irritable for weeks.

The wait feels like forever, and his thighs are numb by the time the cab arrives. The cabbie doesn’t make him talk. Maybe he sees how far gone Koushi really is. He’s grateful for the silence.

He doesn’t remember the rest of the ride, or getting into his apartment. But there he is, staring at himself in his bathroom mirror. He’s already naked. His eyes are red rimmed, and his face looks two shades too pale. He takes one shuttering breath. And another.

He washes up with a rag in the sink, manages to find an oversized t-shirt in the dark, and topples onto his bed. Koushi curls in on himself.

“Why?” he mumbles. _Why did I do that?_

He knows why. Because he never learned how to say no. For all the posturing and flirting, he’s dependent on the validation that this gives him. He probably would have initiated it, probably wouldn’t have gotten so drunk if Ko hadn’t said something that hurt him. Maybe he would have enjoyed himself better.  
“Learn to take a joke, Sugawara,” he whispers. “Lighten up.”

The words echo echo echo. It sounds like the past coming back to claw at his throat.

He closes his eyes with a garbled sigh. Daichi’s image is waiting for him there. He’s grinning, his mouth wider in one corner than the other, his expression warm and open and _honest._ Nothing like Ko’s.

And when Daichi speaks, it’s with that rumbling laugh that scrapes its way so pleasantly across Koushi’s bones: 

_“Slut.”_

Koushi’s eyes pop open, but he doesn’t see anything past the burning in his gaze. Don’t cry, he scolds himself. One night of bad sex shouldn’t break you down. Be a man.

The tears slip anyway. He turns his face into his pillow and wonders how easy it would be to suffocate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From "Forty-five minutes later, and Ko is practically dragging Koushi to his apartment", Koushi and Ko do have sex, but Koushi doesn't gain any pleasure or satisfaction from it. Ko calls him a cab afterwards, and Koushi finds himself drunkenly reflecting on his inability to say no to anyone. His self esteem spirals, and he imagines Daichi calling him a slut and laughing. The chapter ends with him crying.
> 
> Here is some Unexpected Angst™ for you, my friends. I'm not a fan of giving away spoilers, but I think it's important to note that my Suga has never been sexually abused--however, his relationship with sex is still complicated and difficult and heavily influences his feeling of self worth. This will be explored more, though I intend for this chapter to be the lowest moment for him. We probably won't get much darker than this, guys.
> 
> I'd love your feedback below, or you can hit me up on tumblr to chat~~~~: http://positivecomet.tumblr.com/


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Koushi has a Bad Day, and Daichi gets a clue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 4, AKA: THE SMALLEST CHAPTER EVER OMGGGGGG

To: Coffee-sensei  
>> I’m calling in that favor

From: Coffee-sensei  
>> Sure. I’ll let the others know when they get here. Are you okay?

To: Coffee-sensei  
>>Bad night

From: Coffee-sensei  
>>Sorry to hear that. Let me know what you need.

 

From: Yamatron  
>>Takeda says your not coming???  
>>You ok?  
>>Maybe your sleeping…

 

From: Yamatron  
>>k, its been hrs u cant b sleepin  
>>im illegally texting at work yell at me mom  
>>suga wtf srsly txt bak so i no ur ok

 

From: Yamatron  
>>ill give dai ur # if u don’t  
>>ill tell hinata on u  
>>SUGA WTF COME ON

 

From: Yamatron  
>>fuk it im texting asahi

 

From: Beard Man  
>>Yamaguchi is Officially Worried  
>>Should I be, too?

 

From: Yamatron  
>>text asahi bak u dik  
>>let us no ur ok  
>>im serious koushi

 

From: Beard Man  
>>I’m outside

 

Koushi hears the front door open and shut softly. There’s a pause, and then familiar, heavy footsteps are making their way down the hall. He doesn’t have to open his eyes—Asahi’s presence is one that can’t be mistaken.

His friend crosses the room, and soon there are fingers sliding through Koushi’s hair. His body lets out a long, heavy breath, and the fingers disappear as he shifts back and blinks.

“Your phone?”

The room is still very dark—thank you, blackout curtains—but the light from the hallway is illuminating Asahi enough to see. His mouth is screwed up a little on one side, and his gaze is gentle. 

Koushi processes his question, rolling fully onto his back. He’d texted Takeda this morning to call off work, but he hadn’t brought it back to bed with him. “In the bathroom, maybe.”

Asahi hums and pushes Koushi’s legs aside so he can sit. “Yamaguchi is giving himself an anxiety attack. He’s been trying to get a hold of you for hours.”

Koushi sighs, trying to force the feeling of guilt back down his throat. He buries his face in his pillow and mumbles, “Just a bad day.”

“That’s what I told him,” Asahi says.

They’re quiet for a little before Asahi pats Koushi’s thigh through the blanket. “You go shower while I make the tea.”

Koushi attempts a glare. “I don’t want to shower.”

“I know,” he replies before getting up. His back is broad and strong as he leaves the room, opening the door a little wider to let in more light.

Koushi listens to the sounds of Asahi moving around his apartment. He convinces his lungs to inflate once, twice, before pushing himself to the side. His feet feel like concrete when they hit the floor, and he has to blink his vision back into place as it threatens to dissolve under the weight of being fully upright. 

The shower is just as slow. Koushi lets the water beat the back of his skull as he leans against the wet tiles. He feels outside of time on days like these; he could have stood there for eternity and not noticed. This both soothes and disturbs him. Is this how his mother feels all the time? On normal days, he can avoid falling into the rabbit hole of thoughts like these. But today is not the norm.

He only opens his eyes when Asahi knocks on the door.

When he's only slightly damp, he wraps himself in oversized pajama pants and a large shirt. Asahi is half bundled on the couch when Koushi wanders out to him. The larger man's gaze is gentle and understanding as it glides over his friend. It's something Koushi has never felt the impluse to shy away from. That gaze has glued him back together more than once.

Asahi holds the blanket open in a silent invitation. Koushi greedily accepts it, burrowing into the hard muscle of Asahi’s side.

They settle in together, the only sounds being their easy breaths and the rhythmic tick of a wall clock. Koushi closes his eyes and relaxes into the feel of Asahi’s heart thumping steadily in his chest.

“Feeling better?” When Asahi speaks, Koushi can feel it rumble through his own lungs.

He takes a deep breath, and it begins to feel easier. He feels Asahi reach out for a mug of tea, listens to him blow lightly over the hot liquid. After a moment, he nods, and it’s not a lie.

 

Suga looks different when he finally comes back to work. Softer, somehow. It’s strange—he’s still flirting, still smiling and carrying on with each and every customer. He pointedly avoids Daichi’s gaze, but that’s not really new, either. But his smiles come just a few seconds too slow. His tongue isn’t as sharp as it normally is. 

It almost makes Daichi lose his nerve.

He can feel Hinata’s bright little gaze on him as he sits across him in the booth. Kageyama—bless him—is as oblivious as always. But this is the third or fourth time Daichi’s rubbed his hands on his pants, and he can’t keep his gaze from wandering over to where Suga is darting around behind the counter. 

“Gonna ask for his number again?”

Daichi’s eyes snap back to Hinata. His charisma is almost like a light around him, shifting and swirling with his amusement.

“Ah, not this time,” Daichi concedes.

A little ashamed that he’s been thoroughly found out, he pushes out of the booth, Kageyama’s confused stare weighing heavily between his shoulders. 

“Good luck!” Hinata calls.

Daichi curses the little troublemaker silently, aware of how Suga’s gaze is on him at the sound of Hinata’s voice—in that regard, he’s very much like the mother that Yamaguchi is always accusing him of being. 

Suga meets him at the quieter end of the counter, wiping his hands unnecessarily on his apron. His eyes are soft and swirling, and he shifts the hair off his forehead with a little bouncing tilt—an invitation, or an inquiry.

“So, I know you won’t give me your number,” Daichi starts.

Suga’s lips press together, and Daichi can’t tell if it’s from amusement or annoyance. He swallows around his nerves and plows on: “I was thinking that if I took you out for dinner, you’d see that I really am a trustworthy guy. And I might finally get to program you into my phone.”

“Is this like the dad version of a notch in your bed?” Suga asks lightly. His eyes track Daichi’s hand as it rubs the back of his skull. “Am I another of your phone’s weird conquests?”

“I really like you,” Daichi says around his red face. “And I hope that you really like me back.”

Suga stares at him a moment, his lips turning a little pink as they fall open in surprise. He blinks wide eyes before he seems to come back to himself. His smile is sharp and just too side of bright when it flashes back across his mouth. “I’ve never doubted your trustworthiness, Daichi-san.”

“Then why?” he presses.

Suga laughs. Daichi blinks, more than a little surprised by how bitter it sounds, how self-deprecating. Nothing like at the bar that night, where it sounded to Daichi like wind chimes singing out into a humid summer night.

Suga waves Daichi away, and he retreats back to his post. Kageyama looks sympathetic, but doesn’t say anything. Hinata looks apologetic, but not surprised by the outcome.

He fixes his stare on Hinata’s round face. “Got any tips for me?”

“He doesn’t date. Anyone. Ever.” Hinata says. After a moment, he reaches up to tug on his earring. Daichi watches Kageyama watch Hinata.

“Why?” Daichi turns his attention back to Hinata, not even a little shamed at the gossip he’s becoming.

“That’s not really my place.” Hinata grins, but it’s not as bright as usual. “Maybe just keep trying?”

His place? Daichi wonders. That was more of a clue than he’d gotten thus far; there was a story behind that friendly smile and cute mole.

“Has that worked?” Daichi asks.

“I don’t think anyone’s been brave enough to keep at it,” Hinata says.

“Well, okay then.” Daichi nods, though he feels like his mind is running faster than he can process. 

The sun bounces off the boys opposite him in the booth, and for a moment, Daichi is struck with the ease of the moment. He finds himself wistful as Hinata and Kageyama start bickering about something inconsequential, a mellow push and pull that cuts through the annoyed rising of their voices. They fit so well together, and Daichi can’t help but hope he finds that with someone, someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO. I've been pretty good about updating so far with this fic, which means that it's time for me to disappear. But this time there's warning! I'm going on a vacation, and while I'll be back before next weekend, I'm not sure how much writing I'll get done for the fic, since I have to write for my thesis and also the beginning of a collection of flash fiction I have to have ready to present to my class on September 1st. SO, while I hope to update next Saturday, I apologize in advance for leaving you with a little bitty chapter in the mean time. I love you all!
> 
> http://positivecomet.tumblr.com/


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Iwaizumi inadvertently gives Daichi some advice, and Suga gives Daichi an inch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI, I'M BACK FROM VACATION WOOOOO~~

Daichi opens his door to Iwaizumi’s serious expression and a case of beer.

“It’s Tuesday,” Daichi says after a moment.

“And?”

Iwaizumi and Daichi grin at each other before Daichi steps aside to let Iwaizumi into his apartment.

They put on some old horror movie, and drink anytime someone screams, or cries, or gets killed. They’re plastered before they can start a new movie. Daichi stuffs an arm behind his head, pillowing it against the carpet, and watches Iwaizumi’s foot wiggle back and forth where it extends off the sofa.

“I asked Suga on a date yesterday,” he says.

The foot stops moving for a second before beginning again. “You’re a piece of work, Sawamura.”

“Why would you say that?” Daichi asks.

“The guy obviously isn’t into you,” Iwaizumi says. “I’d have given up forever ago. Seriously, it’s like you’re Oikawa begging for attention or something.”

“Oikawa only begs you for attention,” Daichi reminds him.

Iwaizumi sits up, moving so he can grab another beer and crack it open. “Just because he knows I’ll give it to him. That’s not the point, anyway.”

“I can’t give up, not yet,” Daichi says. “He’s so bright, and kind. He treats Kageyama liked he’d been looking after him for years. I don’t know. It’s the way he holds himself. I want to know him more.”

“Sap,” Iwaizumi mutters around a grin. “You treat Kageyama like a son sometimes. He’s a grown-ass man. It’s embarrassing.”

“You know, someday I’m going to get you to tell me about you and Oikawa,” Daichi deflects.

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “There is no me and Oikawa.”

“Really?” Daichi hauls himself into a sitting position so he can raise an eyebrow at his friend. “Because he did switch universities for you. And our volleyball program isn’t nearly as nice as theirs is.”

Iwaizumi stares hard at Daichi for a moment before dropping his eyes. Daichi watches him chug the rest of the beer can and wipe his mouth before he sets it down.

“Listen,” Iwaizumi says. “This stays between us, okay?”

Daichi can feel his eyes get wider as he nods. After three years of friendship with Iwaizumi, he is finally going to get a little information from him.

“Oikawa has really bad anxiety. Like, crippling at times. Has since we were kids.” Iwaizumi takes another beer from the case, but instead of opening it, he rolls it gently between his palms. “He didn’t do well at the other school. That’s it. I know how to handle it because we grew up together, and I think he would have had to quit if he didn’t transfer.”

“I had no idea,” Daichi says quietly. “He hides it so well.”

Iwaizumi huffs a laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s him for you. Everything’s a fucking show.”

“It’s just.” Daichi pauses. His drunk brain spins with the thought that maybe he shouldn’t push his normally closed-off friend into uncomfortable territory.

“Just spit it out, Daichi.” Iwaizumi sighs and cracks the can open. He offers it to Daichi, his expression weary. “This is probably the last time you’ll ever get me to talk about it.”

Daichi nods and takes the can from him. “It’s just, I’ve seen the way you look at him sometimes.”

“Ah.” Iwaizumi rubs the back of his head and watches Daichi drink. “I guess I don’t hide it as well as I think.”

“Have you ever—”

“He’s straight, Daichi.” Iwaizumi cracks his knuckles and accepts the can back. “You’ve seen how he is with women. He’s been like that since we were just figuring out what sex was.”

“So why don’t you move on?” Daichi asks. “I mean, I assumed you were interested in men, but I’ve never seen you show any interest in anyone.”

“It’s not that I’m interested in men or women.” Iwaizumi’s expression scrunches and he tips the beer back and forth, letting the liquid slosh inside the can. “I mean, I’ve been with both, because there’ve been opportunities and it was easy. And I thought, ‘why the hell not, I deserve a good time.’ But I’ve never felt anything for anyone but him. Even that year apart, everyone else just seems so…gray, compared to him. I don’t even know if I _can_ be attracted to anyone else.”

Daichi stays quiet, absorbing this information. There’s a word for what Iwaizumi’s describing, he thinks, but it stays just out of reach. He’d known since he was younger that he’s attracted to all different kinds of men, that he has a particular type that really appeals to him. He wonders at Iwaizumi’s unwavering devotion, and its inability to be returned. His heart aches and his head swims as he tries to find something to say.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Iwaizumi says. “I don’t want you to pity me. I’m okay with how things are. I mean, honestly, he’s an idiot. He won’t ever find out, so everything can be easy between us. I just like being by his side.”

Daichi nods, accepting the can after Iwaizumi takes a generous gulp. “I think I know what you mean, about that last part.”

“Does the barista know that?” Iwaizumi’s lips quirk into a smile. 

“Probably not,” Daichi says. “But I think I know how to show him.”

 

From: Beard Man  
>>My mom says hi  
>>IMG.jpg

Koushi opens the image text to a selfie of Asahi and his mom, faces squished together, identical dark eyes radiating softness and warmth from miles and miles away. Koushi allows himself a few long moments of looking, before he saves it in his phone and takes a selfie.

To: Beard Man  
>>IMG.jpg  
>>I say hi back! 

From: Beard Man  
>>Your at work?  
>>*You’re

Koushi rolls his eyes.

To: Beard Man  
>>Yeah haha #baristalife  
>>Also, idgaf about your grammar you weirdo

From: Beard Man  
>>You need a vacation, too. Mom says you should have come with me this trip

To: Beard Man  
>>Next time, promise!

He doesn’t say that he would feel guilty going to visit Asahi’s family before seeing his own. It’s been, what, three months since he’d been home? Four?

He shoves that thought away and pockets his phone. He clocks back in a few minutes early, more than a little relieved when Shouyo bounces up to the counter. His grin is as wide as an ocean, and just seeing it releases the knots forming down the knobs of Koushi’s spine.

“Suga!” he crows.

“Hey, Shou. Want your usual?”

His hair bounces with his enthusiastic nod. “Please!”

Koushi sets to work making the frappe, watching Shouyo watch the other customers. He’s dressed in his work clothes, a large smear of dirt across one forearm, and he looks relaxed and happy.

“How’s work?” Koushi asks as he sets the drink down in front of his friend.

“Good,” he says. “Busy. It’s not as fun without Asahi.”

“You should text him and tell him that. I’m sure it would make him really happy.”

Koushi takes Shouyo’s cash and walks down to the register. He waits until the younger man is busy on his phone—no doubt texting Asahi—before pretending to ring him up. He tucks the cash into his apron and heads back to Shouyo.

“I have to go—Ukai-san needs me over by the athletic fields,” Shouyo says, pocketing his phone. “We’re measuring a spot for Asahi’s sunflowers, for the proposal to the dean.”

“Well, you won’t want to keep Ukai-san waiting,” Koushi agrees. He feels a little disappointed that Shouyo’s visit is so short, but he hides it behind a smile. “Are you free tonight?”

“Kageyama and I are watching a movie tonight.” His expression suddenly turns brighter, his eyes pinching shut with the force of his smile. “He really likes Ghibli, you know.”

“I didn’t,” Koushi says, fondness melting all of his insides. “I’m glad he makes you happy, Shou.”

Shouyo blinks before laughing. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool. I’ll see you later, Suga!”

The bell chimes as he scampers out, and Takeda appears behind the counter. “Family discount again?”

“Shou finds a suspicious amount of cash in his laundry,” Koushi admits. He feels his ears turn pink and he smiles sheepishly at his boss.

“You’re a good friend, Suga,” Takeda says. He reaches out and squeezes Koushi’s shoulder. “I wish they knew how much.”

Koushi shrugs and busies himself by organizing the back counter. “I’m just looking out for them.”

“It’s okay to let some people look out for you, too, you know.”

Koushi turns and gives Takeda’s serious expression a soft smile. “Do I worry you, Takeda-san?”

“You’re family to me, Koushi,” Takeda says gently. “I just want to know that you’re okay.”

Koushi thinks about brushing off his concern—honestly, it’s like an instinct at this point—but Takeda doesn’t deserve his bullshit. Not when he’s being so openly honest with Koushi. Besides the use of his given name, Koushi knows how much family means to Takeda, a man whose own abandoned him long ago.

“It was just a bad day,” he says quietly. “Ko came by and it just…set me back a little. Asahi came to my place when I wouldn’t answer my phone.”

“I see.” Takdea nods and puts his hand on Koushi’s shoulder again. “I’m glad that you have someone who can help you through it. Our minds can be scary places at times.”

“Yeah.” Koushi reaches up and gives Takeda’s hand a quick squeeze. “Thank you, Takeda-san. For caring so much.”

“You make it easy,” Takeda says. He takes his hand off of Koushi’s shoulder and vanishes into the back without another word.

 

Daichi is looking in the mirror, smoothing down his black v-neck and wondering if it’s too tight across the chest when his phone goes off.

He crosses the room, his brow creasing when he sees the name. Something feels off, puts a knot in between his shoulder blades before he even taps the call button.

“Oikawa?”

“Dai-chan! Hello!” 

His voice is a little too high, too forcefully cheerful. It makes Daichi’s jaw clench.

“What happened?” he demands.

“Oh, ah, nothing bad! Iwa-chan has one of his headaches, you know. I think we’re going to have to cancel tonight.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Daichi says. He feels the tension release a little bit, but there’s still something off about Oikawa that he doesn’t like. “Is it pretty bad?”

“Well…yes. He forgot his medication at the apartment today—just his luck, you know, it’s awful—and by the time he realized what was happening, he couldn’t really talk so well. He called me, but it took quite a while for me to be able to track him down.”

Daichi lets out a slow breath. “Are you guys at home now?”

“Yes. It was just slow getting here, but the meds kicked in enough for him to fall asleep.”

Daichi knows he doesn’t have to worry, that Oikawa is used to helping Iwaizumi through his migraines. But he knows that Oikawa worries himself sick, even if he’s good at hiding it. Iwaizumi’s reveal just this last week has allowed Daichi to see past the curtain of Oikawa Tooru, and a lot of things had begun to make more sense.

“Well, it’s a good thing he has you,” Daichi says eventually. “I’m sure he’ll feel better soon.”

Oikawa is oddly silent for a while. Daichi sits and waits, watching the way his bedroom curtain twists in the slight breeze.

“Thank you, Dai-chan,” Oikawa says. His voice sounds better, more normal. “That was nice of you to say.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sorry we bailed on you.”

Daichi shakes his head even though he knows Oikawa can’t see him. “It’s not a problem. We’ll go out next time, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Let me know if you guys need anything,” Daichi says.

“Sure, Dai-chan. Thank you.”

“Keep me posted,” Daichi says. “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.”

They say their goodbyes and Daichi returns to the mirror. He runs a hand over his chest again, thinking hard about his now-open schedule.

“I’ll go for two drinks,” he says finally. “And then I’ll come home.”

 

Daichi is just finishing up his second highball when Jiro looks toward the door, a smile softening his quiet features.

“Hey, Suga,” he calls out.

Daichi feels a warm jolt go through him, and he swivels on his barstool to see Suga shaking some rain out of his hair. He’s smiling, too, and his gaze lands on Daichi for a brief moment before he waves at Jiro.

“Before you say anything,” Daichi says as Suga draws closer, “I swear to God that I’m not stalking you.”

“Don’t worry.” Suga chuckles as he climbs onto the stool next to Daichi, the shoulders of his jacket damp. “I’d be more concerned if you hadn’t been here first.”

Jiro reappears without comment. Suga thanks him as he slides a shot and a beer across the counter. Daichi watches him forgo the shot, which Jiro takes back. They toast and drink together before Jiro turns his bright eyes and easy smile back on Daichi.

“Another?” he asks.

“Please,” Daichi says. 

Jiro gives Suga another smile as he grabs a can and places it in front of Daichi. He slips away to talk to people at the other end of the bar, leaving Daichi and Suga as alone as they can be in a crowded bar.

“So, how was your day?” Daichi asks. 

Suga swallows, putting his beer on the bar before turning back to Daichi. “It was pretty good. Uneventful. Shou stopped by to tell me that he’s watching a movie with Kageyama tonight, Yama is “busy,” which probably means he’s with someone, and Asahi’s back home with his mom for a little while.”

Something clicks in Daichi’s mind, something that he’s been circling around for weeks. When asked about his day, or his evening, or how he’s doing, Sugawara Koushi will always respond with a report on each of his friends. His happiness is directly connected with that of his friends, and something tightens in Daichi’s chest at the sentiment. 

“Sounds like everyone is busy,” Daichi says.

“Yeah. It explains why I’m here alone on a Friday night.” Suga raises an eyebrow and puts his elbows on the bar. “How about you?”

“Ah,” Daichi tells himself not to stare at the cute little mole on the side of Suga’s face. “Well, I was supposed to come with Oikawa and Iwaizumi, but Iwa got a migraine earlier today and Oikawa stayed home to take care of him.”

“How outrageously domestic,” Suga says. His whole face lights up with a smile. “That’s really sweet. It’s nice to know you have someone to take care of you.”

“Yeah, they’re good friends,” Daichi says. He thinks about Iwaizumi’s drunken confession, and his heart aches all over again. “I’m probably closest to Iwa. We were on the team a year before Oikawa joined us, so we had a lot of time to get to know each other away from other friends.”

Suga nods, his fingers drumming a little on the bar. “That’s like me and Asahi. Although we had two years to get to know each other before Yama and Shou moved here.”

“Do you mother Asahi, too?”

“I think I bully him more than I mother him.” Suga scrunches his nose and laughs a little. “He’s a giant of a man, but he’s too timid for his own good.”

“Sounds like someone you’d mother,” Daichi says. 

Suga pauses, momentarily distracted by some girls laughing loudly at the other end of the bar. Daichi suddenly feels nervous, like he’s made an assumption about Suga. Truthfully, he doesn’t really know him, other than observing him at work and that one time they’d hung out here. Daichi takes a little time to stay quiet and sip his drink before he clears his throat.

“Iwaizumi told me that I treat Kageyama like a son. He said it was embarrassing.”

Suga’s laughter is loud and bright, and he slaps Daichi’s shoulder. “We make quite the pair, Sawamura.”

“Speaking of Kageyama,” Daichi says offhandedly. “How long do you think it will be until those two get together?”

Suga hums, his bottom lip resting against his glass as he turns his hazel eyes back on Daichi. “Not long, I would say. I think Shou is waiting for Kageyama-kun to make the first move.”

“I hope he does,” Daichi says. “Hinata is a great guy. He’s really good for Kageyama.”

Suga blinks at him, his lips parting in what appears to be surprise. It might be the booze, but Daichi feels suddenly lightheaded by the unfiltered honesty in Suga’s expression. Though, like usual, he has no idea where the emotion is coming from. Before he or Suga can say anything, Jiro reappears.

“Another, Suga?”

Suga turns wide eyes on him, pausing just slightly before nodding. Jiro’s brow crinkles, and he shoots Daichi a glance before grabbing Suga’s empty glass. He gestures to Daichi’s drink, but Daichi shakes his head. Jiro disappears without another word.

“You know, Asahi would say this was fate,” Suga says.

Daichi turns to him, bringing his can to his mouth. He hopes Suga sees the question in his gaze.

“The fact that you and I bump into each other so often,” Suga explains.

“Well, I go to your café a lot,” Daichi admits. “On purpose.”

“That’s true,” Suga concedes.

“And this is the closest bar to campus,” Daichi says.

Suga hums and looks at Daichi. He rests his elbow on the bar and sets his chin in his hand, his gaze warm and unwavering. Daichi feels it on his face like a physical touch, and he knows he’s blushing past whatever pink the booze has set into his skin.

“I guess it just feels like fate,” Suga says at last, his voice lower and more melodic as it curls off his tongue.

Daichi’s heart threatens to stop beating right there.

They sit quietly for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. Daichi wills away the heat in his face, and smiles whenever he catches Suga’s gaze on him. Suga never looks away, never acts embarrassed, and smiles back, just a little. Daichi thinks that maybe he’s getting to see past the walls of this beautiful boy, if just a little.

They finish their drinks, and stand to leave almost as one. Daichi grins and holds the door open, breathing deeply as they step into the cooling night. The rain has stopped, though the scent of it still lingers on the now-quiet streets.

“Going this way?” Suga asks, pointing towards campus.

“Sure am,” Daichi says. He pockets his fists as they set off.

“Me too,” Suga says. 

“I’ll walk you home,” Daichi says.

Suga laughs, another loud, bright thing that sparkles in the air between them. “How chivalrous. You don’t have to, though, I’m a big boy.”

“I’m not saying you aren’t,” Daichi says. “But I’ll sleep better knowing you got back okay.”

Suga doesn’t say anything more, but the silence is comfortable. After a while, he bumps Daichi’s shoulder with his own.

“Does Iwaizumi get headaches a lot?”

“Yeah, they’re chronic.” Daichi kicks at a rock, letting it skitter forward a few feet before they catch up with it. “He usually carries his medicine with him, but he forgot today. Oikawa seemed a little panicked. I guess he’d had to track Iwaizumi down on campus before he could help him.”

“That’s scary,” Suga says.

“Yeah, it is.” Daichi’s rock clatters out onto the street, and he’s a little sad to see it go. “I’ve seen him when they’re not so bad and it’s a little scary. I’m just glad he called Oikawa.”

“They’ve been in the shop a few times,” Suga says. “They seem really close. They always know what the other wants, even when it’s not a usual.”

“They’re childhood friends,” Daichi explains.

“Too cute.” Suga laughs again, and kicks another rock out in front of Daichi. “I’m glad that Iwaizumi will be okay.”

“Yeah, me too,” Daichi says.

They only walk for a little longer before Suga slows in front of an apartment building, set just a little ways back from the street. Daichi turns to face his easy smile and waving hand.

“Well, this is me,” Suga says.

“Oh, cool,” Daichi squints a little at the building before turning back to Suga. “I might see you at work tomorrow. I’ve developed quite the caffeine addiction, and I don’t know if I’ll make it through practice without it.”

“Sounds, good, Daichi.” Suga chuckles, low in his throat, a noise that makes Daichi’s chest ache in an almost painful way. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Daichi feels a little weird that Suga hasn’t started walking down the path to the building. Maybe Suga doesn’t live _here,_ but, like, around here, Daichi thinks. Maybe he doesn’t want Daichi to know where he lives.

Daichi lifts a hand in a wave, letting it fall back to his side as he turns to go. 

“Hey, Daichi.”

Having only gotten a few steps away, Daichi can feel his mouth twist as he pauses and looks back at Suga.

Suga has his phone out and is smiling softly at it. The street lamp behind him is buzzing slightly, adding a little background noise to the quietness of the night. Suga’s hair is mussed from where the wind’s run its fingers through it, and the light has almost illuminated a halo around him. Daichi swallows reflexively.

Suga looks up at him, and it may be the booze, or Daichi’s imagination running wild, but he thinks he can see the shine of Suga’s bright hazel eyes even at two a.m. on a gently lit city street.

“What’s your number?” Suga asks.

Daichi pauses, counts the spaces between his heartbeats. His voice is steady as he tells the other man, watching as Suga programs it into his phone.

“I’ll text you,” Suga says, after. He pockets the phone and gives Daichi a soft grin, moving down the little uneven sidewalk to the apartment building.

Daichi calls out a goodnight. He practically floats to his apartment. He texts Oikawa for an update on Iwaizumi—“He woke up for water and I got him to eat a little before he went back to sleep. I think he’ll be ready for practice tomorrow, no problem! (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑”—and is in bed when his phone buzzes with another text.

From: Unknown  
>>Did you make it home safe?

Daichi grins.

To: Sugawara Koushi  
>>yes thanks  
>>u kno ill never stop texting u now

From: Sugawara Koushi  
>>I have the ability to block you, so don’t forget that, Daichi-san

To: Sugawara Koushi  
>>promise thats not what im in ur phone as

From: Sugawara Koushi  
>>Trust me, it’s not (∗´꒳`)

Daichi grins and lets his phone drop to the floor. Iwaizumi’s words echo out to him as he settles down into the bed: _I just like being by his side._

Yeah, Daichi thinks. I know exactly how that feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are so sloooowwww. I thought Kageyama and Hinata were slow, but Suga is taking the cake with this one. Just know that I'm suffering right along with you<3
> 
> Comments and kudos give me life!
> 
> You can always hit me up on tumblr: http://positivecomet.tumblr.com/


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Suga is impatient and the Sugawara Defense Squad assembles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hey, hello. Hopefully you haven't forgotten about this!

Koushi waits all the next morning for Daichi to text him. He checks his phone as soon as he wakes up, squinting through the darkness at the over-bright screen. And again after he hops out of the shower. And a third time as he’s waiting for some leftover okayu to heat up.

Eventually, he gets tired of waiting and texts Asahi.

To: Beard Man  
>>I gave Daichi my number last night

From: Beard Man  
>>Yay!!  
>>What prompted that?

Koushi huffs a laugh, blowing on the okayu before dipping a spoon into the mixture and bringing it to his mouth.

To: Beard Man  
>>I dunno, we ran itno each other at the bar  
>>We hung out for a good while and drank  
>>He walked me home

From: Beard Man  
>>That’s very sweet.  
>>It sounds like something that would scare you off normally.

Koushi hums in response, even though he knows Asahi isn’t there to hear him. He eats a little, pondering the statement, and watches with unfocused eyes as his screen locks itself. After another moment of contemplation, he unlocks it again.

To: Beard Man  
>>It was different last night, maybe

He wants to continue maybe, but he doesn’t know if he should. After a long period of silence from Asahi, his own thoughts starts making him nervous.

To: Beard Man  
>>He was still really nice and everything. Especially walking me home, that was super sweet  
>>But it wasn’t like there was an expectation?  
>>Like he didn’t try to kiss me or come inside or anything  
>>Idk maybe I’m being dumb

From: Beard Man  
>>I don’t think that’s dumb. He obviously likes and respects you.

Koushi doesn’t want to think about why that makes him blush like a school girl being confessed to for the first time.

From: Beard Man  
>>That’s how it’s supposed to be, you know.

Koushi gives his phone a pathetic little pout. He types then why hasn’t he texted me yet? and promptly deletes it. That should definitely not be the concern right now.

To: Beard Man  
>>I know but I don’t want to get his hopes up

From: Beard Man  
>>How do you even know what his intentions are?  
>>He could just want to keep it casual

Koushi snorts and shovels a few spoonfuls into his mouth to dissuade the taste of bitter humor from his mouth.

To: Beard Man  
>>Oh, please. Sawamura Daichi is a Commitment Man  
>>I can smell it on him

From: Beard Man  
>>That’s…odd.

To: Beard Man  
>>I can smell it on you, too ( ͡⚆ ͜ʖ ͡⚆)

From: Beard Man  
>>Well I hope it smells good at least.  
>>Also, you know I hate that emoticon.

Koushi chuckles and finishes the rest of the food in his bowl. By the time he’s washed the dishes and is getting ready for work, the text has been sitting in his inbox for a while.

From: Beard Man  
>>I know you don’t want to hear it, but you deserve to be happy, Koushi. Maybe it’s time to take a chance.

 

It’s not like Koushi’s waiting for the text or anything.

But.

It’s been a total of two days.

He hasn’t even come in for that coffee like he said he would. 

To: Beard Man  
>>Do you think he’s playing hard to get????

From: Beard Man  
>>How would I possibly know that?

To: Beard Man  
>>I mean, this nice guy thing could be a ploy  
>>He’s trying to wait me out  
>>He wants me to come to him

He doesn’t say _Like Ko,_ but he thinks Asahi is probably thinking it anyway. Heavens knows that Koushi is.

From: Beard Man  
>>You’re sounding more and more paranoid every day.  
>>Daichi isn’t like that. You know it.

Koushi does know it. He does. But as he wastes another evening lying on his bed and staring at the moonlight shifting on the wall opposite his open curtains, he can’t help but obsessed about it. Because this already feels inevitable, it already feels like fate.

Asahi’s voice rubles soft through his mind: _You deserve to be happy, Koushi. Maybe it’s time to take a chance._

Koushi stuffs his face into the pillow and resists the urge to scream.

 

His shift is going well, and there is a bounce in the steps of his customers. Everyone is feeling energized by the oncoming summer, the way the trees are full and bouncing in the warm spring breeze. They’ve left the café door open for the first time this season, and the warming air is invigorating as it curls its way through the shop. Koushi delivers more iced lattes than he has the past few weeks, and that makes him sparkle a little in anticipation, too.

As he’s ringing out a study group, he wonders what Daichi’s favorite season is. Probably fall, he decides. He probably likes wearing hats. And he would look really, really good in a flannel button down. 

Koushi blinks as one of the girls hands him a tip. He smiles graciously, and tries not to feel bad that he’s spending too much time thinking about someone who should most definitely be off limits. The fact that he can feel his resolve crumbling makes him anxious. He forces himself to clean up the back counter, decidedly thinking about anything else. 

“Mr. Refreshing!”

Koushi turns to see Oikawa’s wind-mussed hair and unnaturally white teeth stalk across the room toward him. He feels his face ease into a smile, and he’s only a little surprised to find it’s completely genuine.

“Hello, Oikawa-san,” Koushi says. 

He leans against the counter and doesn’t shy away when Oikawa plants his hands on the smooth surface and brings his grin closer to Koushi’s face. His eyes were pinched closed with the force of his cheer.

“I heard you kept Dai-chan company while Iwa-chan and I took the night off,” Oikawa says. “He tells me you were quite the gentleman with him.”

“Me?” Koushi chuckles and leans a little towards Oikawa. He’s always like people who can tease. “He’s the one who walked me home.”

Oikawa clucks his tongue. “And not even a goodnight kiss? Dai-chan is usually so much more forward than that.”

“So he dates a lot?” Koushi asks. He can feel his heart pound a little harder at the prospect, and he makes a mental note to scold himself later.

Oikawa hums and rocks back a little on his feet. He tips his head in a way that might have been practiced, but his unusually sharp eyes are wandering away like he’s seriously considering the question. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dai-chan express genuine interest in someone before you. Flings and flirtations, yes. Although Dai-chan’s version of flirting is more like saying whatever pops into his head.”

“He doesn’t strike me as the kind to do casual.” Koushi doesn’t mention that it’s Koushi’s favorite way he’s ever been flirted with.

“I think many things about him would surprise you.” That piercing gaze is back on Koushi’s face, the sweet brown-green bright and almost amused.

“I don’t think it matters anyway.” Koushi shrugs like Oikawa’s words didn’t knock all the air from his lungs. “He hasn’t texted me, so.”

“Ah,” Oikawa says, sounding almost like a sigh. “I think Iwa-chan made him feel bad.”

“Oh?” Koushi copies Oikawa’s head tilt.

Oikawa blinks, his expression blanking momentarily in his surprise, and his smile comes back wider, more energetic. “Imitation is the highest form of flattery, they say.”

“Maybe I’m just trying to get to you spill all of Daichi’s dirty secrets.” Koushi chuckles.

Oikawa rolls his eyes and drums his fingers on the counter. “You don’t need me for that—Dai-chan will tell you anything if you just ask. And anyway, about the texting, Iwa-chan told Dai-chan that if you really wanted to get to know him, you would. I think he made Dai-chan feel creepy.”

“He’s not creepy,” Koushi says automatically.

“I know.” Oikawa smiles kindly. “It wouldn’t hurt to text him, I think. Even if you just want to be friends.”

That’s not what Koushi wants. Well, definitely that, but other things, too. Instead of saying anything he gives a noncommittal hum and looks down at the counter between them. 

“If you’re not going to actually buy anything, then some of us would like some quality time with the barista.”

Koushi can feel the panic flash across his eyes before he schools his expression into something pleasantly passive. Oikawa can see it, he knows, by the way his smile drops as he straightens.

He wasn’t paying attention—a rare and near-fatal mistake, Koushi thinks. His jaw creaks with the force of his smile as he turns it on Ko’s bored expression.

“Shiba-san,” Koushi manages. “Would you like your usual?”

Ko’s mouth presses down in a decidedly unimpressed manner. “I thought I would have earned my name back after the last time.”

Stop it, Koushi begs. He’s not sure who he’s pleading with or for what. Just stop. That ugly darkness rears up in him, and his hands quake from how forcefully he shoves it back down.

“Café Bombon, then?” he asks serenely.

Ko’s irritation shows in the way his eyes flick to Oikawa and back. He’s not opposed to having an audience, Koushi knows, but only when he feels like things are going his way. 

“Koushi.” It’s a warning and a command wrapped into one little word.

“He’s using your first name, Kou-chan,” Oikawa purrs. “How intimate.”

Koushi watches as his eyes go half-lidded, the casual way he brings himself to full height, condescension and self-confidence rolling off of him like storm clouds. The air snaps electric as Ko shifts back, instinctually, sensing the threat. His eyes narrow. Koushi blinks, unsure what he should say.

“And you are?” Ko says.

“I would say competition, but after looking at you, I think we’d both know that’s a lie.” Oikawa’s chin tips up. His smile wicked enough to sharpen knives on.

Koushi’s brain stops and then starts up again one hundred times faster than usual. What’s happening.

“Your attitude isn’t cute,” Ko says.

“Well, it’s a good thing that Kou-chan’s opinion is the only one that matters, isn’t it?” Oikawa’s mouth widens on one side in a sneer. 

A warm weight is suddenly pressed into Koushi’s side. “Is there anything I can get for you, Shiba-san? It seems that Suga is already busy.”

Koushi resists the urge to grab Yamaguchi’s hand where it’s trapped between their thighs. Even so, he can feel the slight tremor in it. He’d told Koushi once that he hated Ko—that he reminded him too much of people who made him miserable his whole life. 

Only once when they’d been drunk and crammed in the same bed had Koushi fully realized the extent of that misery. Where his boxers had pulled up on his legs, pale scarlines traced steady up the insides of Yamaguchi’s thighs. They were too perfect to be anything but intentional. Heartbroken and unsure, Koushi had pulled the blankets over his sleeping friend and kept quiet. Koushi didn’t think Yamaguchi knew how to talk about it, or if he’d ever really opened up to anyone. He decided that all he could do was show Yama that he’d be there and protect hi any way he knew how. 

He’d kept Ko and Yama as far away from each other as possible from them on. This was the first time since that night that he’d failed. And knowing what Ko’s attention has cost Koushi’s psyche, his nervously fierce little friend is planting himself between Koushi and the man he can’t stand for reasons Koushi can only guess at.

Koushi wants to cry.

Ko turns a frosty glare on Yamaguchi before his eyes find Koushi’s. They stay like that, unmoving and calculating. Koushi wonders what kind of secrets Ko is digging out of his expression.

“Fine,” Ko says eventually. “You know where to find me.”

Koushi can hear the dark void in his mind howl. It doesn’t sound as faint as it normally does. Suddenly, it’s like he can feel Ko’s hands on him, can feel the awful thing he’d tried to rip from his gut with the force of his sobs later that night. Something in Koushi flicks off. He can almost sense a part of him powering down like a light that’s cord has been suddenly pulled. 

None of them relax as Ko turns on heel and moves gracefully from the shop. He bumps shoulders with Iwaizumi on his way out, earning a glower he doesn’t pay attention to as he turns the corner. Yamaguchi moves down the counter, worrying his lips between his teeth and avoiding Koushi’s eyes. Oikawa’s body relaxes in a rush, and his expression clears with a bright grin for Iwaizumi.

“Iwa-chan!” he says.

“What are you doing, Shittykawa?” Iwaizumi growls. There’s tension in his shoulders as his eyes roam suspiciously over his friend. “You had you Smug King face on.”

“Rude,” Oikawa sniffs. “Why do you always assume I’m the bad guy?”

Koushi watches Iwaizumi stare, the gears obviously turning and turning in his mind. He ultimately lets Oikawa alone, his eyes coming to rest on Koushi’s face briefly before returning to Oikawa. 

“You’ve been in here for over ten minutes. Have you even ordered?”

Oikawa pops his temple with the heel of a hand. “You know what, Iwa-chan, I completely forgot!”

“You’re an idiot,” Iwaizumi says flatly. “Could we have two iced coffees to go, please, Suga?”

“Sure,” Koushi says. He doesn’t have the energy to say more.

He turns and gets that together for them, knowing how much sugar and milk each like. Yamaguchi returns to his side before he can finish, their hands moving automatically to get the order together.

“Takeda is coming in to close for us,” Yamaguchi says lowly. “Because we’re so slow.”

For once, Koushi accepts without argument. He nods just enough so that Yamaguchi will see, and hands the volleyball stars their drinks. He waves off their attempts at payment.

“It’s on the house,” he says. “I’m glad to hear you’re feeling better, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Welcome to the family,” Yamaguchi chimes in.

Koushi turns so that he can trade a small smile with his friend.

Iwaizumi huffs and shoves his cash into the tip jar. He turns and leaves without another word. Oikawa chuckles and does the same. Koushi reaches out and grabs his wrist before he can turn away.

“Thank you, Oikawa-san,” he says.

Again, he’s managed to surprise him. Oikawa’s smile drops, and his eyes widen a little. He looks down at their hands before something softer overtakes his expression.

“It’s nothing, Suga-kun,” he says. 

“Not to me.” Koushi frees Oikawa’s hand.

“I’d stay away from him if I were you,” Oikawa says. He picks up his coffee and turns toward the door. “He reminds me too much of myself. You deserve better, Suga-kun.”

Koushi feels a shock run through his system, and before he can react, Oikawa is walking out the door with a flick of his fingers that could be a goodbye or a dismissal. 

Yamaguchi comes up beside Koushi and grabs his hand. They stay pressed together in the quiet of the empty café for a good while.

“I guess you never really know anybody,” Yamaguchi says after a while.

“No,” Koushi agrees quietly, though he’s not exactly sure where this thought is coming from. “I guess you don’t.”

 

Koushi doesn’t say anything as he watches Yamaguchi pull on a pair of Koushi’s pajama pants—the one with little lambs wearing sunglasses. He waits until Yamaguchi is under the covers before he follows him to the bed.

This is something he does with Asahi. Yamaguchi doesn’t do vulnerable and honest. He doesn’t enjoy confrontation and stripping each other bare to understand the pain there better. But Koushi knows that’s what’s about to happen. It’s a heavy pulse in the air, an instinct hissing whispers through his system. He’s not so sure what to expect.

They lie facing each other for a long time. Koushi had closed his bedroom door, but Yama opened the black-out curtains. The late evening sun drifts through the window and illuminates the little dust particles swirling through the air. It’s too early for bed, even if Koushi feels like he could sleep for four hundred years and not be rested. Yamaguchi’s eyes are soft with worry.

“He’s the reason for your bad day,” Yamaguchi says quietly.

“Yes,” Koushi replies.

“Because you slept with him?”

There’s a pang in Koushi’s chest, but it seems too far away to inflict any real damage. “Yes.”

Yamaguchi forces a breath out from his nose. It’s hard, but they don’t look away from each other. Koushi keeps his eyes on Yama’s face, counts his uneven blinks— _one, two. Three._

“I don’t like him.”

Koushi swallows, a reflex against the waver in Yamaguchi’s voice. “I know.”

“There are a hundred ways to hurt yourself, Suga,” Yamaguchi continues. His eyes move and fix on something behind Koushi’s head. Koushi isn’t sure what to say, so he stays silent. Eventually, Yamaguchi brought his gaze to Koushi’s again. “Why do you say yes to him?”

There’s a long, heavy silence. Koushi hasn’t talked about it this way, not really. Asahi doesn’t pry so directly. Koushi allows himself to wonder what Yamaguchi was like in high school, what happened that he was able to develop layers so thick Koushi didn’t even know this side of him existed until now.

“I like the attention.” Koushi swallows against a wave of nausea. 

Yamaguchi studies him for another moment. “Suga, that can’t be it.”

Koushi blinks. Yamaguchi’s dismissal hurts more than he expected.

“If it’s only about attention, why not Daichi?”

Ah. Koushi bites his inner cheek so hard he tastes blood. He feels his own misery reflected in Yamaguchi’s dark eyes. 

“You’re allowed to be happy.”

Koushi laughs a little. “You sound like Asahi.”

“But it’s true.” Yama shuffles closer under the blankets, until their forearms are touching, their feet poking a little at each other. “You want the affection, but you use it to punish yourself.”

“I’m a hassle,” he says.

“No.”

“Yama, I’m being a hassle right now.”

_“No.”_

Koushi falls quiet. He traces the spaces between Yamaguchi’s freckles with his eyes. 

“What do you want?” Yamaguchi asks eventually.

It’s not something Koushi’s allowed himself to think about for about three years. In fact, he spends a considerable amount of time not thinking about it. He closes his eyes and forces himself to try as Yamaguchi’s fingers twist between his.

It’s dizzy relief when he sees Daichi’s lopsided grin, the boyish way he looked kicking a rock down a deserted street on a Friday evening. The friendly way he’d turned to go that night after the bar. The lack of pressure or expectation for Koushi to perform some sort of goodnight ritual as a reward for Daichi’s kindness. The way he is nothing but himself 150% of the time. The way he makes Koushi ache for that type of freedom.

Koushi laughs a little. “Oh, Yamatron,” he says. “I am so, so fucked.”

Yamaguchi huffs at the nickname, or Koushi’s statement, or both. “No. You’re just afraid to take what you don’t think you deserve. But I guess now you’re going to text him.”

“I am.” Koushi opens his eyes.

Yamaguchi smiles a little before leaning in to press his mouth to Koushi’s. The kiss is small and fleeting, no more than a press of skin to skin. It sloshes warmth and comfort through Koushi’s system.

Yamaguchi settles even closer against Koushi, tucking his nose against the spot between Koushi’s eyebrows. He grumbles, “Don’t tell Hinata I did that.”

Koushi snickers. “Of course not. He doesn’t understand.”

Yamaguchi hums. They’re quiet for so long that Koushi thinks they’re done speaking. He closes his eyes and relaxes before Yamaguchi draws in a long breath.

“I’m the opposite, you know,” he says. “I don’t want to want. I hate it.”

It’s amazing how full Koushi can feel one minute and how empty the next, all from the same person. He opens his mouth to answer, but Yamaguchi shakes his head.

“You deserve to be happy, too, Tadashi,” he insists. “That doesn’t apply just to me.”

Yamaguchi squeezes his eyes closed. “I’m trying. Every single day, I’m trying.”

Koushi tilts his chin forward and brushes his lips against Yamaguchi’s for another kiss. Yamaguchi melts against the bed. It’s not long before their breathing evens out, and they fall asleep wrapped in the intimacy they’ve woven around them. 

 

Daichi is just climbing into bed when his phone buzzes sharply on the desk. He eyes it from afar, debating whether it would be worth it to cross the room. In the end, he scolds himself for being lazy and snags if.

From: Sugawara Koushi  
>>You will never guess who showed up as my knight in shining armor today.

Daichi grins. He settles down in bed as he quickly shoots back a reply.

To: Sugawara Koushi  
>>Asahi?

From: Sugawara Koushi  
>>Nope! OIKAWA.

Undeniable affection sloshes sweetly in Daichi's chest. He curls his toes around a section of comforter. This is what he wanted. Easy friendship, Suga taking a chance at letting him in, if just a little. He makes a mental note to thank Iwaizumi. This is exactly right.

To: Sugawara Koushi  
>>Tell me everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frankly, I know this writing is absolute garbage. At this point, I'm choosing to sacrifice poetic and artful prose in favor of actual plot advancement. Between writing my novel and my two classes and my job and planning my wedding, I just want to make sure that this story keep existing. I'm sorry. I hope you still enjoy it<3333
> 
> If you're looking for a MUCH better DaiSuga writer (though I bet you're going to be familiar with their work), Ellessey here on AO3 and tumblr is the absolute best. Seriously, "The Stars in Summer" gives me life.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Suga and Daichi can't stop texting, and Daichi's gang is brought into Suga's Family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rises out of the coffin of grad school*
> 
> Miss me? ( ˘ ³˘)♥

To: Thunder Thighs  
>>DAIIIICHIIIIII

From: Thunder Thighs  
>>that is too much enthusiasm for this god awful time

Koushi grins, rolls onto his stomach, and rubs his face against his pillow. Dawn is just breaking on the other side of his black out curtains, and they’d stayed up too late texting, but Koushi still can’t wipe the grin off his face at the thought that Daichi just texted him back. Immediately. Even at this God awful time.

To: Thunder Thighs  
>>Then why are you up???  
>>Did I wake you?

From: Thunder Thighs  
>>no! iwa and i go running together in the am on weekdays  
>>my responses might be slow  
>>im waiting 4 him 2 get here

Koushi’s thumbs pause over his next response. His eyes drift over to the chair in the corner of the room, where his exercise clothes are wrinkled and abandoned. He thinks about asking Daichi where their route leads and then “bumping” into them, but that would take his fixation to Shouyo-style levels. He doesn’t know if he will ever be ready for that. He shakes himself and turns the conversation toward less serious thoughts.

To: Thunder Thighs  
>>Ooohh, exercise date? Sounds romantic<3

From: Thunder Thighs  
>>im gonna tell iwa you said that

To: Thunder Thighs  
>>Please do, and then text me his response (*´艸`*)

From: Thunder Thighs  
>>wat the hell is that

To: Thunder Thighs  
>>I’m stifling my laughter!

From: Thunder Thighs  
>>u and oikawa would be bffs  
>>also iwa is here  
>>also:  
>>IMG.jpg

Koushi opens the image and is greeted to a close-up of Iwaizumi’s face. His lips are pursed and his dark eyes are flat. His whole expression equates to the most unimpressed stare that Koushi has ever seen. 

He cackles before taking a selfie with a faux-terrified look. His hair is sticking up more than normal, but with his bed as the backdrop and his sleep shirt that features dancing tacos, he figures that Daichi will understand. He adds the words ‘Oh no! Iwa’s scary!’, then sends the image and propels himself out of bed without waiting for Daichi’s response.

After a quick shower and allowing himself to putter around the chilly apartment, Koushi returns to his to his room to pull on his uniform. When he’s ready, he grabs his phone and reads through Daichi’s responses.

From: Thunder Thighs  
>>iwa says that you an oikawa would be bffs  
>>he says u look cute in ur taco shirt  
>>hes possibly gonna murder me for telling u that

Koushi chuckles, not even bothering to try and suppress the little bubble of happiness that’s beginning to compress his lungs to his ribcage.

To: Thunder Thighs  
>>No! Tell Iwaizumi-san that I would be sad if you got murdered.  
>>IMG.jpg

From: Thunder Thighs  
>>ur pout was 100% effective  
>>he will refrain from murder 4 now  
>>mayb not 4 long   
>>he needs coffee

Koushi grins before shooting off a quick response.

To: Thunder Thighs  
>>If you’re done with your run around 7, come to the shop! I’ll be there!

 

Iwaizumi and Daichi slow to a stop a block away from Suga’s shop. Daichi leans forward and grabs at his knees, practically wheezing from the force of his breathing. Iwaizumi isn’t any better, but he plants his palms on his lower back and throws his face towards the sky to gulp down air.

“Iwa-chan, Dai-chan!”

Daichi blinks the sweat out of his eyes and stares up at Oikawa. Oikawa is dressed for class, a light sweater over a button-down and dark-wash skinny jeans gracing his form. The wind ruffles its fingers through his hair, and he grins crookedly at them, waving as he approaches. Daichi isn’t surprised to see him here, since he’d texted Oikawa himself just this morning, but he was surprised by Oikawa’s enthusiastic response. 

Iwaizumi had looked over the texts of just emoticons Oikawa had spammed Daichi’s phone with and shrugged. “He really likes Suga,” he’d said.

“I didn’t think they knew each other well,” Daichi replied. He pocketed his phone, even though it buzzed away against his thigh.

“Yeah, well, who knows with him.”

Daichi had raised an eyebrow at the gruffness of Iwaizumi’s tone, hinting at an irritation greater than usual. He’d considered pushing Iwa to explain, but he’d wisely decided to stay quiet.

Daichi shakes off his thoughts and grins at Oikawa as he rocks to a stop in front of them.

“I think Dai-chan finally beat you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says.

Iwaizumi glances over Oikawa’s outfit before waving his comment away. “Daichi will never beat me.”

“Hey!”

“I don’t know, Iwa-chan. It looked too close to call~~”

Oikawa promptly begins screeching as Iwaizumi tries to rub his sweaty face on Oikawa’s sweater. Daichi laughs at them and pulls his phone from the pocket of his athletic shorts. Suga hasn’t texted him again, but it’s just after seven. Daichi uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.

“So, do you guys want coffee?” he asks as casually as he can.

Oikawa gives him a Look. It’s strikingly similar to one that Suga’s given him before, and it reminds him that he’s the least subtle person on the planet. “Honestly, why else would I be out here meeting you two at this hour?”

“Because you’re supposed to be our friend, you asshole,” Iwaizumi huffs.

Oikawa sniffs. “Well, I can’t help that Suga-chan is so sweet to me, and you’re nothing but a brute.”

They start bickering as they follow Daichi down the block. Daichi snaps a photo of the two of them before stuffing his phone in his pocket. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, but Oikawa is too concentrated on being a pest to notice.

Yamaguchi is behind the counter, and he looks up as soon as they enter the shop. The little bell above the door dings, and Yamaguchi turns toward the kitchen, taking a breath to shout.

Suga bursts through the kitchen door, brandishing what appears to be a small plant in each hand, a brilliant grin on his face. His expression softens in disappointment when he sees who it is. Daichi feels a little pang of horror before Suga recovers a smaller smile, lowering his hands—and the plants—down to his sides.

“I was just about to tell you it wasn’t him,” Yamaguchi says.

“Don’t look so sad to see us, Suga-chan,” Oikawa says as he bounces toward the counter. “Dai-chan says you invited us here!”

Daichi and Iwaizumi pause just long enough for Iwaizumi to stare after Oikawa, and for Daichi to wonder if he should have just pried earlier. Then the moment passes, and they move towards the counter, closer to the scent of coffee and chocolate.

“I’m not sad!” Suga yelps. His face turns a little pink, and he fidgets with the plants, which are now on the counter. “It’s just that Asahi’s coming back from vacation today.”

“He’s late,” Yamaguchi says flatly. “Suga’s obsessing.”

Suga watches Yamaguchi move around the counter and start lowering chairs to the floor from their perches on the tables. His eyes move to the door and then down at the plants. They’re purplish and fleshy-looking, their leaves ending in points almost like stars. They’re nestled in small Bulbasaur planters. Daichi allows himself to smile at how adorable they are before Suga sighs and leans his forearms on the counter.

“I’m not obsessing,” Suga grumbles. “I just don’t know why I wasn’t allowed to pick him up from the train station.”

“Because he’s a grown man!” Yamaguchi calls out. “And you are not his mother, nor are you his boyfriend.”

Daichi snorts and smiles apologetically when Suga glares at him.

“Traitor,” Suga says.

“Yamaguchi has a sharp tongue,” Daichi says. 

“He knows!” Yamaguchi cackles.

“Iwa-chan always picks me up from the train station,” Oikawa says thoughtfully.

Iwaizumi kicks at his foot and scowls. “Shut up.”

“What?” Oikawa squawks and looks more offended than the situation calls for. “You do!”

“Because you’re a hopeless idiot,” Iwaizumi grits out.

He looks furious, but the back of his neck is turning red. Daichi turns his smile on Suga, who beams back at him. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other since he walked Suga home, and his gut clenches a little looking at Suga’s smile. He’d forgotten how weak he actually is, but he’s being quickly reminded.

Just as Daichi opens his mouth to say something, the door opens behind them with a soft chime. Suga’s face breaks out in an even bigger smile, and he jumps over the counter without hesitation.

Daichi and Iwaizumi duck out of the way in time for Suga to barrel past and fling himself onto the man entering the shop. Suga has talked a lot about Asahi, and Daichi shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s a little intimidating how _big_ the man truly is. He’s tall and broad everywhere, his flannel button down hugging the outlines of biceps and pecs. He has his long hair pulled back in a low bun, and a Kageyama-esque beanie rests just so on the crown of his head. 

Asahi yelps and looks startled as Suga flings his arms around his neck, standing on his toes to reach around Asahi. Asahi makes a strangled sort of sound, and waves helplessly at Yamaguchi. Yamaguchi shakes his head and makes his way back to the counter, where Daichi and his friends are looking on in amused silence.

“This is why he’s not allowed to pick any of us up at the train station,” Yamaguchi says. “Except Hinata. But he loves to be fussed over.”

“Maybe we should tell Tobio-chan that,” Oikawa says thoughtfully.

“No.” Iwaizumi says.

Asahi finally manages to untangle himself from Suga’s grasp, and submits to what looks like a pat-down. Suga is talking a mile a minute, asking him question after question about the trip without giving him any room to answer. Eventually, after his wandering hands have straightened Asahi’s shirt and fixed his hat, he pinches Asahi’s cheeks.

“Did you eat a lot at your mom’s house?” Suga asks sweetly. “You look so chubby!”

“I—I think that’s just how I look,” Asahi says.

Yamaguchi hops up to sit on the counter. “You’re going to going to give him a complex, Suga!”

“I am not!” Suga twists around to frown at Yamaguchi. “Asahi knows that I think he’s attractive!”

“Could we not?” Asahi says. His voice is strained, and his eyes dart around to the strangers gawking at the display.

Suga makes a dismissive sound before kissing Asahi’s cheek and pulling him over to the counter. 

“He’s right, Asahi,” Yamaguchi says, even though Suga hadn’t said anything. “Meet Oikawa, Iwaizumi, and Daichi. Suga brought them into the family while you were gone.”

“What does that mean?” Daichi asks.

Suga grins at him, though it’s a little more embarrassed than usual. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Asahi says quietly.

“It’s like a gang,” Yamaguchi supplies from his spot behind them. “Or a cult.”

Suga lunges forward to smack Yamaguchi, but he’d already moved off the counter and was scampering out of reach with a bright laugh.

“It’s none of those things,” Asahi assures them with a small smile.

“They’re making it sound horrible!” Suga laments. 

He rounds the counter and turns wide puppy-dog eyes on Daichi. Daichi wonders for a moment if his heart is still beating before Suga sighs and starts making drinks.

As he busies himself, Suga tells them, “When I moved here, I didn’t know anyone. I was lucky enough to snag the job here through a Skype interview with Takeda-san, but it was hard being in the city alone. Asahi came in for coffee once, and I made him talk to me. A few weeks later, I saw him in the grocery store near my apartment.”

“He scared me to death,” Asahi admitted. “He came out of nowhere and started talking to me like we were life-long friends.”

“Well, I knew you wouldn’t talk to me unless I made you comfortable. I just had to figure out how to do that,” Suga says. “Anyway, it was just us for a while, and I got closer with Takeda-san, and I started to feel at home. But I knew Hinata from back home, and I would go see him often. I started taking Asahi with me, and they got close, too.”

“And then Hinata moved here at the end of last summer,” Yamaguchi adds. “And he and I became roommates because we both inquired about the apartment with the landlord, who got us talking. When we moved in, Asahi got Hinata the job working for Ukai, and Hinata introduced me to Asahi and Suga.”

“Yama needed a job, so I got him one here,” Suga says. He sets four cups down on the counter before pointing to each one. “Two black coffees for Daichi and Iwaizumi, a mocha frappe for Oikawa, and a hot chocolate for Asahi.”

“So how did we get invited to your family?” Daichi asks.

Yamaguchi bursts out laughing. “Well, you get in for your persistence.”

Suga kicks the back of Yamaguchi’s calf, but he still chuckles as he rubs the pain out with his knuckles. “Kageyama was first, because those two will most definitely get together. I haven’t told him yet, because God knows we’ll scare him off.”

“If Hinata hasn’t scared him off yet, I think we’re pretty much stuck with him,” Yamaguchi says.

“Yama!” Suga scolds.

Yamaguchi giggles at Asahi’s deep sigh.

“And you next, Daichi, because you’re my friend,” Suga continues.

“And us?” Oikawa asks sweetly. He leans closer to Suga on the counter.

There’s a momentary pause, during which Suga’s eyes dart from Oikawa to Asahi and down to the counter. Yamaguchi trots over and looks toward Asahi.

“Oikawa and Iwaizumi were adopted last week when Oikawa scared Shiba away.”

“You did what?” Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa attempts to wave Iwaizumi’s interest away. “He was just some idiot bothering Suga-chan.”

“Ko was here?”

The hair on the back of Daichi’s neck stands up from the sheer oddness of Asahi’s tone. He sounds curious, but there’s a darker undercurrent to his words that gives a little more credit to his biker appearance. Oikawa’s eyes narrow and dart between Asahi’s blank expression and Suga’s embarrassed one. Even Iwaizumi seems interested—and he’s usually not one for gossip.

“Oikawa scared him away,” Suga repeats. “I’ll fill you in later.”

Asahi looks sad and worried, but he doesn’t argue about getting his answers later. 

Iwaizumi checks the time on his phone and then takes a large sip of his coffee. He swallows and says, “I have to go get ready for class.”

“Me too,” Daichi says.

Asahi smiles at them. “Would you like to join us for drinks tonight? Suga insisted on it.”

“Even though Hinata will bow out early to fawn over Kageyama,” Yamaguchi says.

“He will not!” Suga says.

“He’s hoping that Kageyama will kiss him soon,” Asahi says to Suga. He sounds apologetic, which brings a grin to Daichi’s face.

“They haven’t kissed yet?” Oikawa’s expression is absolutely horrified. “Iwa-chan, you have to let me help Tobio-chan!”

Iwaizumi sighs. “He doesn’t need your help. Let him figure it out.” 

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whines.

“We’ll be there for drinks tonight,” Daichi tells Suga.

“Yay!” Suga grins and leans closer to Daichi. “I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay,” he replies, a grin working its way over his mouth in response.

As the trio turn to go, Daichi hears Suga chirp, “Look at the echeveria I got you, Asahi!” The door swings shut behind them, and Daichi feels a sad little ping in his heart as he thinks about the boring hours stretching between now and later. Iwaizumi and Oikawa fall into step in front of Daichi, content to entertain each other and leave him to his thoughts.

“Part of the family now, huh?” Iwaizumi says idly.

“I think it’s really nice,” Oikawa says, voice quiet.

Daichi stares at the back of Oikawa’s head, a little thrown by the wistful tone, but Oikawa doesn’t turn to look at either of his friends. Iwaizumi glances over at Oikawa’s expression, and whatever he sees there softens his eyes. 

“It is,” Iwaizumi agrees. He looks back at Daichi. “Hope you know what you’re in for, man.”

“I don’t.” Daichi smiles at Iwaizumi’s flat look and Oikawa’s twinkling laugh. “But I’m excited to find out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a little piddly chapter, but I wanted to throw it up and say happy birthday to the wonderful [Ellessey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellessey/pseuds/Ellessey) !! I recced The Stars and Summer last chapter I think, but if you love AsaNoya, then you have to read The Chronicles of the Virgin Asahi rIgHt NoW. 
> 
> I wanted this to get chapter through the bar scene, but that's probably going to be a chapter by itself--just wait until drunk Suga and Oikawa get together. Oh, man. I'm so excited :D
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! Thanks for reading<3333


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the kids are leaving the nest, and the gang gets properly drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: i'm gonna update more regularly!
> 
> me @ me: lol ok don't get full of yourself
> 
> (/ω＼)

Daichi is only three beers in when Hinata starts bouncing his leg. Granted, the guy is always moving in some capacity. But this leg bouncing has intent. Hinata is listening excitedly to Daichi as he describes one of their last practice matches, but even with such a riveting topic, Hinata seems only half there. His eyes keep sliding around the booth, and Suga has noticed.

Suga leans over, wrapping Hinata in a hug and bearing weight down on him. The leg stops bouncing for a moment before picking up again with enthusiasm. 

“What’s up with you?” Suga complains. “Yama is going to call you twitchy if you don’t settle down before he gets here.”

“Ah, it’s just—” Hinata tilts his head so he can still reach his ear with his arms practically pinned to his sides.

Suga frowns and bats his hand away. “Stop that. You’re going to rip your own earring out one of these days.”

Hinata’s gaze flits to Asahi before skittering away. “It’s just that I’m not sure how much longer I can stay…?”

Daichi watches Suga’s expression blank. Suga stops hugging him, and sits back in the booth, raking a stare over Hinata’s nervous form. 

“It’s just—Kageyama got finished with that project early and…it wasn’t that I forgot Asahi was coming home, it’s—”

“It’s fine, Hinata,” Asahi assures him. “We’ll see each other at work in a few days. And I know how much he means to you.”

Hinata’s expression falls and he slumps back in his seat. “That makes it sound like you don’t mean much to me, Asahi.”

Asahi chuckles, and Daichi can feel the larger man’s comfortability in the way he shifts on the bench next to him. “I’m not saying you don’t. It’s just not the same thing.”

Hinata brightens before wilting a little. He sneaks a glance at Suga, who is doing his best to look neutral. The trio keep their eyes on Suga as he drains the rest of his beer.

“Are you mad?” Hinata asks.

Daichi marvels at the power Suga has over this man—he can tell that Hinata has spent many years looking up to Suga. And from the way Suga softens and manages a smile shows Daichi that Hinata has just as much power over Suga.

“Of course not,” Suga tells him. He grabs Hinata’s face and pulls him in to press a kiss to the chubby round of his cheek. “I just hope he makes it worth your while, this time.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s almost ready to kiss me!” Hinata crows, springing to life under the assurance of his friends’ approval. “I’m, like, seventy-five percent positive.”

“I think he’s probably just nervous because of how pretty you are,” Asahi says absently.

Daichi manages to stifle a chuckle as Hinata goes red and preens under the attention. Asahi leans a little into Daichi’s personal space so he can squeeze Hinata’s hands, and then relaxes back into his seat. 

Hinata checks his phone, and Suga drums his fingers on the table. “Can you wait for Oikawa and Iwaizumi to get here at least?”

“Umm.” Hinata pockets the phone and reaches for his earring. At the last second, his hand swerves and he scrubs his palm along the shaved part of his undercut. “Tsukishima’s out for the night, so…”

“Who’s that?” Asahi asks.

“Oh! He’s, uh, Kageyama’s roommate,” Hinata says.

“Valuable alone time,” Daichi notes, which earns him a bright grin from Hinata. 

Suga sighs and heaves himself out of the booth. Hinata scrambles out, pulls Suga into a quick hug, and then tackles Asahi with a hug as well. 

“Text me when you get home?” Asahi says.

“Of course!” Hinata waves to Daichi and all but sprints out of the bar.

Yamaguchi enters just after with Oikawa and Iwaizumi in tow. Daichi chokes on his swallow of beer at the sight—Yamaguchi has his hair pulled back in a low ponytail, with shorter bits framing his face. But even from here Daichi can see the glint of metal in both his ears, and the flash of a ring in his lip when he grins at them. He’s got on a black shirt, with a black leather jacket—also studded with bright silver metal—and has donned black ripped jeans and heavy black combat boots. As they get closer, Daichi can make out the smudges of eyeliner around Yamaguchi’s eyes, even through the watering of his own.

“Why are you dressed like that!” Suga demands.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Yamaguchi says.

Suga slides out of his side of the booth and Yamaguchi slides in. After Suga sits back down, Oikawa scoots in next to him. Daichi and Asahi both scooch down to leave room for Iwaizumi. It’s a tight fit, but not wholly uncomfortable.

“You’re dressed to go out,” Suga says.

“I am out, aren’t I?” Yamaguchi asks.

Suga huffs and waves to the bartender for more drinks. While he’s distracted, Daichi notices Asahi and Yamaguchi make eye contact. Yamaguchi grins and winks before he feels Daichi’s attention. He puts a quick finger to his lips before Suga turns back.

“Where’s Hinata?” Iwaizumi asks.

“He went to spend time with his new favorite person, right?” Yamaguchi laughs before patting Suga on the back.

Suga shoots him a venomous look. “It’s not a competition.”

“Then why’re you so mad?”

Yamaguchi sputters and wheezes when Suga’s fist connects with his gut. The bartender laughs as he appears to set their drinks down.

“Get yourself in trouble there, Yama?” he asks. “You should have waited until Hinata came back—Suga’s always softer when he’s around.”

“I am soft all the time, thank you,” Suga says.

“Yeah, the epitome of a fluffy bunny, this one,” Yamaguchi mutters.

Asahi laughs, a deep, happy sound, and Suga attempts to look betrayed while forcing down a smile. His bright hazel eyes to turn Daichi.

“Aren’t you going to defend me?” he says.

“I think you can take care of yourself,” Daichi says around a grin.

They quickly down their first round this way, easing the awkwardness of new friends through quick banter and gentle teasing. They get through three rounds before Iwaizumi relaxes enough to join in, and Daichi can’t help but notice how his eyes rarely stray from Oikawa’s smile. He wonders if it was always this obvious, or if Iwaizumi opening up to him helped Daichi see things more clearly. From the way Suga’s eyes dart between the two, it must be a more apparent than he ever realized.

“Are those new earrings, Yamaguchi?” Asahi asks when the conversations slows.

Yamaguchi grins and tilts his head to let his left ear catch the light. There are four piercings there, the two on his lobe little round balls, but the one above that is a little silver hoop with a sparkly black ball nestled on the outside of his ear. The fourth is a little star nestled right against the flat tan skin of his upper ear.

“You always notice this stuff, Asahi,” Yamaguchi says before sticking out his tongue. He gives them a brief view of a sparkly, green and gold swirled barbell before it disappears back into his mouth.

“They’re nice,” Asahi says.

“They suit you,” Suga agrees, settling his arm around Yamaguchi’s shoulders.

“I never noticed you had a tongue ring before, Yamaguchi,” Daichi says.

“Oh, I usually wear a clear retainer when I’m at work,” Yamaguchi says. “I just got this faux opal a few days ago from the shop I like. My piercer called me when it came in, because I’ve been looking for something to finish my galaxy set for a while now.”

“Yama-chan, do you believe in aliens?” Oikawa asks.

Iwaizumi stares at Oikawa hard enough that Daichi wonders why the pretty brunette doesn’t burst into flames or something. But he’s not even paying attention to Iwa, eyes intent on Yamaguchi’s face.

There’s a long pause, during which Yamaguchi’s eyebrows climb so high on his forehead that they disappear into his bangs. Suga leans back in the booth so that they can chat around him. Yamaguchi sets down his empty beer cup and turns to face Oikawa fully.

“Step one: Have camera set to infinity,” Yamaguchi says, his voice deeper and rougher than usual.

Oikawa’s face lights up, and he all but lunges across Suga’s lap to pull Yamaguchi into a hug. Yamaguchi laughs, and nods to whatever Oikawa is muttering into his ear.

“Oh, no,” Asahi chuckles. “We have another one.”

“We won’t ever escape the horrible documentaries now.” Suga barks a laugh as he crawls behind Oikawa to stand. “Who needs a refill? I can stop by the bar on the way back from the bathroom.”

Everyone but Yamaguchi and Oikawa raise their hands and Suga gives them a bright beam and a thumbs up before vanishing. 

“Okay, as much as I’d love to sit here and talk theory with you all night,” Yamaguchi says, putting his hands on Oikawa’s shoulders. “My booty call has been waiting for me for the past twenty minutes.”

“Will you text me when you get home?” Asahi says.

“Well, he’s coming to my place, so I’ll text you when he leaves,” Yamaguchi says. He seems to deliberately avoid eye contact as he and Oikawa scoot out of the booth.

Asahi chokes on the last little swallow of beer in his glass. Daichi slaps his back, his brow creasing a little as he watches Yamaguchi’s cheeks burn red. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Yamaguchi says. “Don’t tell Suga.”

“Seems contradictory,” Oikawa chirps.

“It’s totally not a big deal,” Yamaguchi insists. His eyes don’t move from Asahi’s face. “Hinata’s out of the apartment, and this guy’s roommate has a guest over.”

“I’ll let you go before he gets back,” Asahi says.

“See you tomorrow, okay?” Yamaguchi blows Asahi a kiss and salutes Oikawa and Iwaizumi before he darts out of the door.

Iwaizumi slides out of the booth and takes his place by Oikawa’s side. Oikawa smiles and makes room for him, resting his cheek on Iwaizumi’s shoulder before turning his gaze to Asahi.

“Yamaguchi doesn’t have people over often?” he asks, his voice soft but eyes intent.

“Ah, no. This is probably the first time, I think.” Asahi smiles a little and considers his empty glass. “He has a lot of rules for himself.”

Oikawa opens his mouth to say something, but Suga arrives with the beer and some shots arranged neatly on a tray. He sets the order down gently before turning his gaze to Asahi.

“He waited until I was busy and then he snuck out to see a boy, didn’t he?”

Asahi pulls himself out of the booth and gives Suga a hug. “Do you want my spot? I’m going to grab a chair and sit on the end. I have to stretch my legs out.”

Suga slides into the booth next to Daichi, their thighs bumping as he settles in. Suga’s wearing some kind of citrusy cologne, and Daichi can’t help but breathe deeply as the heat from Suga’s body presses through his t-shirt. 

“Do you have bad knees, Asahi-chan?” Oikawa asks.

Asahi sets the chair down gently before lowering his towering body into it. “Ah, not really. But after being on the train all morning, I get ache-y if I sit curled up for too long.”

“You should do yoga,” Oikawa says. “That’s what I do for my bad knee.”

“That’s what I tell him!” Suga says. “I’m always trying to get him to do it at my place, but he always ends up taking a nap on the mat instead.”

Daichi is suddenly bombarded with mental images of Suga in tight yoga pants, red faced and panting in downward dog. He quickly sucks down more beer, and tells himself to pull it together. Some strange expression must cross his face, because Iwaizumi locks gazes with him, and his friend’s dark gaze is filled with grim empathy.

“You should take your yoga crap over to Suga’s place. That way you aren’t always taking up the living room space with your flailing,” Iwaizumi grumbles.

Oikawa sits up and glares as Iwaizumi takes a large swallow of beer. “You’re so grumpy today, Iwa-chan. How do you ever expect to ever get a girlfriend when you act like this?”

Suga’s hands pause in their task of passing out the shot glasses. Daichi watches Suga and Asahi exchange a glance before Suga gets his hands moving again. Of course Iwaizumi notices, and Daichi watches his cheeks heat.

“Shut up, Oikawa,” he huffs. “You’re drunk.”

“Just a little,” Oikawa says. He looks properly chastised, and his voice is small.

Iwaizumi glances over at him before his arm shifts under the table. Daichi has seen this enough to know what’s going on—Iwa’s taken Oikawa’s hand and squeezed it. It’s something he does only when he knows Oikawa is uncomfortable and he thinks he can be discrete enough to get away with it. Oikawa looks down at their hands and back up at Iwaizumi’s face. They exchange small smiles before Iwaizumi turns his attention back to their shots.

If their body language has anything to say, Daichi is almost positive that they’re still holding hands under the table. His heart aches a little thinking about how this will affect Iwaizumi down the road.

“Shall we take our shots?” Suga asks.

It’s an easy—and welcomed—distraction. The men all pick up their glasses and grin at each other before knocking them back.

 

Koushi stumbles out of the bar, screeching as he trips and he and Oikawa clutch at each other for balance. They’re breathless from laughter, and the cool spring air feels good on Koushi’s overwarm face. 

“You’re so sweet, Suga-chan,” Oikawa says quietly in Suga’s ear. “You’re so nice to Iwa and me.”

“You deserve it, Oikawa,” Suga whispers back. “You have a really good heart.”

Oikawa makes a soft sound before nuzzling into the hair behind Koushi’s ear. Koushi turns and plants a kiss on one high, solid cheekbone. Oikawa’s abruptly pulled off by an exasperated Iwaizumi.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” he scolds, though there’s a laugh embedded in the deep rumble of his tone.

“Aw, Iwa-chan, you’re no fun.” Oikawa wraps his long arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, and Iwaizumi does nothing but scoff a little.

“This was really fun!” Koushi crows into the night. Asahi and Daichi appear on the sidewalk behind him, and he turns to grin at them. “Welcome home, Asahi!”

“Yes, Asahi-chan, welcome home!” Oikawa hollers directly into Iwaizumi’s ear.

“Okay, I’m taking Crazykawa home right now before I decide to dump him in the street to sober up,” Iwaizumi says. “Thanks for inviting us out. Let’s definitely do it again.”

“Yes! Again! Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelps.

Koushi waves as they walk away, feeling an overwhelming fondness for Oikawa’s pink, grinning face. His hair is a little wild after so many shots and beers, but it softens him, makes him more like the awkward, approachable guy that he’s beginning to reveal himself to be.

“Would you really leave me alone in the street, Hajime?” Koushi hears Oikawa ask as they move down the street.

“Of course not, you idiot,” Iwaizumi barks. 

Koushi chuckles before he swoons back into Asahi’s chest. “I love them.”

“Already?” Asahi combs his fingers through Koushi’s tangled bangs.

“Yes, already.” Koushi straightens himself and lets Daichi catch his arm as he loses his balance just a little. “Are you two walking me home?”

“Sure,” Daichi says, a chuckle working its way out of his mouth.

Koushi wants to know what that sound tastes like, he thinks. He lets himself imagine what it would be like to run his tongue along the seam of Daichi’s lips, and he shivers a little.

“Cold?” Daichi asks.

Koushi grins at him. “Nope.”

“Suga.”

Koushi turns to see Asahi crouched slightly, his back turned a little towards them. Koushi squeals and throws himself onto Asahi, who grunts and stumbles before hooking his hands under Koushi’s knees and lifting him up. There’s a large, warm palm on Koushi’s back as Daichi makes sure they’ve stabilized, and then it disappears as they start moving.

“And you call me the chubby one,” Asahi gripes.

Koushi feels his mood plummet instantly. “Did I really gain a lot?”

“No, Suga, I was just kidding,” Asahi says quickly.

“I can feel all my muscle turning to fat,” Koushi laments. “I’m on my feet all day, but it’s different from dedicated gym time.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Daichi says. “All my friends think so.”

“Daichi, you _gossip_ ,” Koushi says. “You talk about me?”

“Hm. Just a little.”

Koushi can feel Asahi’s laugh rumble through his chest, and he feels more settled. They walk in companionable silence for a little while before Asahi clears his throat.

“Is now a bad time to ask about Ko?”

Koushi blows a raspberry and kicks his feet out. The movement startles Asahi, who stumbles a little but doesn’t drop him. Daichi’s hand reappears, this time lower on Koushi’s spine, before it bounces away just as quickly as it appeared.

“So, backstory for Daichi,” Koushi announces. “Ko is someone I was seeing awhile back. Nothing serious, you know, but he was around a lot.”

“He’s an asshole,” Asahi adds. “He makes everyone feel horrible about themselves.”

“That, too.”

“Sounds like a real winner,” Daichi says.

Koushi snorts. “Yeah, well, he’s come crawling back from whence he came just so he can bother me.”

There’s a little pause while they stop at a crosswalk, and Koushi waits until they’re safely on the other side before he sighs and tilts his head back. The stars are so hard to see in the city, but he catches a few twinkling above them.

“Oikawa was in the shop the other day when Ko appeared. Oikawa turned into this other Oikawa. He was snotty and condescending and exactly like Ko. Oh, man, you should have seen them. Ask Yama about it later—it was a showdown to remember.”

“Yamaguchi was there?” Asahi interrupts.

“Yeah.” Koushi can feel his expression darken, and for a second he’s blindsided by the memory of Yamaguchi’s shaky voice and the pale scars lining his thighs. “He tried to get Ko to order with him so he would leave me alone, but Oikawa made him leave before anything really happened.”

“Oikawa has that side to him,” Daichi says. “Iwaizumi calls it ‘Shittykawa.’”

“It’s probably a mask. Sometimes it’s easy to protect yourself that way,” Asahi says.

“I think you’re right,” Daichi says.

“Are you okay, Suga?” Asahi asks.

Koushi reaches over and tugs on Daichi’s hair, making him yelp. “I’m fine. He’s just annoying, Asahi, he should leave me alone now that Oikawa shamed him.”

“I hardly imagine you need anyone to protect you,” Daichi says. “But any of us would gladly kick this guy’s ass for you.”

“Oh, my God! Asahi, did you hear Daichi threaten to beat someone up for me?” Koushi squeals.

“It’s true, though. I imagine that Iwaizumi would punch Ko in the throat two minutes into meeting him,” Asahi says. His tone is almost wistful.

Koushi entertains that thought and laughs. “He’s an angry little hedgehog.”

Daichi laughs so hard that they have to stop walking to wait for him. Koushi’s stomach does a flip as he watches Daichi wipe tears off his cheeks, his eyes creased in the corners from the force of his grin. 

“He’s going to die when I tell him that,” Daichi says.

They start walking, and Asahi hikes Koushi farther up his back. “I think his anger is just for show—like Oikawa’s mask.”

“I think so, too,” Koushi says. “He’s so obviously in love with Oikawa. Does he really date girls?”

Daichi’s face screws up in the cutest apologetic expression. “You should ask him that kind of stuff. I’m not sure what he would be comfortable with you knowing. He’s kind of private that way.”

“Yeah, sure,” Koushi says. “He very obviously shut Oikawa down when it was brought up before. Made me curious.”

Asahi jostles Koushi a little. “We’re here.”

They come to a stop at the path, and Asahi crouches so Koushi can slide off his back. He takes a moment to stabilize himself before tugging gently on Asahi’s hair.

“You’re spending the night, right?”

Asahi turns, his brow pinched. His eyes dart to Daichi and back to Koushi. “Suga—”

“I know you watered your plants before you came out, and I have your spare toothbrush and everything all set out,” Koushi whines. 

Asahi knows that Koushi hates to sleep alone when he’s drunk. Yamaguchi and Hinata have also been subjected to surprise sleepovers. There’s something about the buzzing vulnerability of booze that keeps Koushi from being able to fall asleep. Instead, he’ll lay in his bed, drunk, afraid of things he doesn’t even have names for.

But it’s a little more than that, this time. There’s a special anxiety that Koushi can generally ignore when Asahi’s away that tends to bowl him over when he comes back. He’s not sure when or how he allowed himself to become so dependent on the quiet, unassuming strength of this man. But Koushi wouldn’t change it for anything, not anymore. His love for Asahi is complicated, and sometimes messy, but truer than anything else in Koushi’s life.

Maybe Asahi realizes this. Maybe this is what causes his pinched expression to break into something more gentle.

Asahi sighs. “Okay. I’ll stay. Give me your keys.”

“Well, that’s my cue to leave,” Daichi says. He watches Koushi’s hands as he fishes his keys from his pocket and hands them to Asahi. “Thank God I don’t have class tomorrow and can sleep in. I think I’m getting too old for this.”

He gives them a little wave, which Asahi returns before heading up the walk. Daichi starts down the path before Koushi can get his body to move. He grabs Daichi’s elbow, and the other man turns in surprise. Koushi wraps his arms around Daichi’s neck, a little more slowly and clumsily than he would have sober.

Daichi’s arms come around Koushi’s waist, and Koushi relaxes into the warmth of it. Daichi’s chest is solid, and his arms are strong, and everything about him screams security and support. Koushi knocks their temples together and breathes in Daichi’s body wash. It’s earthy, like sandalwood, but also a little minty.

“Thanks for coming out with us tonight,” Koushi says quietly.

“Yeah, of course.”

Daichi’s voice is soft and low as it brushes against the shell of Koushi’s ear. Koushi shivers. He doesn’t want to let go. “Will you text me when you get home?” 

“Sure.” Daichi chuckles. “Though you are quite a bit more drunk than I am.”

“I had a lot more than you,” Koushi points out.

“I’m not arguing that.”

They hold on for a moment or so longer before Daichi squeezes Koushi a little, the muscles of his arms flexing against Koushi’s back.

“Asahi’s going to think I kidnapped you.”

“Asahi wouldn’t mind if you kidnapped me.”

Daichi grins against Koushi’s neck. “Well, he might after you gave him your puppy-dog face and convinced him to stay the night.”

Koushi sighs. “He’s going to worry that you think he and I are hooking up.”

“I know you’re not.”

“Be sure to tell him that.”

They let each other go, though Koushi lets his hands slip off of Daichi’s shoulders a little slower than he probably should. Daichi brushes his fingers through Koushi’s hair and takes a step back.

“Don’t forget to text me!” Koushi warns.

“I won’t.”

They wave one last time before Daichi turns and continues down the street. Koushi stands and watches him for a few moments, listening to a bright, sharp whistling start up before he turns to meet Asahi in the apartment lobby.

They take the stairs in silence, and once in Koushi’s apartment, they get ready for bed in silence, too. Asahi helps Koushi wrestle into sleep shorts and a night shirt before they turn off the lights and crawl into bed. Asahi checks his phone before dropping it to the floor.

“Hinata’s home now, but Yamaguchi hasn’t texted me yet,” he says.

“You know Yama. He might not get home until daybreak.”

Asahi waits until Koushi is completely settled before he tugs him closer. Koushi rubs his cheek on the smooth skin of Asahi’s chest. He grabs at Asahi’s sleep pants with his toes until Asahi grumbles and kicks his feet away.

“I like them a lot,” Asahi says around a yawn.

“I do, too. I think they’re good additions to the family.”

“And Kageyama, too.”

Koushi listens to the strong, steady beating of Asahi’s heart. “I missed you a lot, Asahi.”

“I missed you a lot, too, Koushi.”

Asahi’s arms find their way around Koushi’s shoulders. The hug is different from the one with Daichi, but it’s still warm and safe and makes Koushi feel relaxed and loved. It’s an Asahi hug. Koushi thinks he should have words for how important this man is to him, but he can’t seem to wrap his brain around any that are significant enough. He changes the subject instead, not willing to let the day to be over just yet.

“I really like Daichi.”

“I know.”

Koushi closes his eyes and buries his face in Asahi’s shoulder. “I think I’m going to kiss him.”

“I know.”

“He’s wonderful. He scares me.”

Asahi noses at the top of Koushi’s head and scratches softly at his back. “That’s okay. He’s different, but that’s not a bad thing. The way he makes you feel isn’t bad.”

“Yeah.” 

There’s another long pause, during which the buzzing in Koushi’s body makes him feel loose and unreal. Asahi’s breathing is getting slower and steadier under him.

“Hey, Asahi.”

“Hm?” The sleepy grunt lets Koushi know that Asahi is barely awake anymore.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, Koushi.”

“You’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend, too. Now, please, _please_ go to sleep.”

Koushi smiles a little before he allows himself to relax fully and let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH HEY IT'S BEEN A MONTH SINCE I UPDATED WHO'S SURPRISED NOT ME
> 
> I had to reread the last chapter to get through this one, but this one's a little longer so I hope that makes up for it! I'd promise that I'm going to update more often, but I love you, so I'll be honest. I have to write a novel this spring, and while I hope to keep writing fics as a way to relieve stress, sometimes it feels like more work. But!!! I won't give up on this series!!!! Can you tell I'm already itching to write the IwaOi?
> 
> I've also thought about why this fic is soooo sloooowwww. I mean, damn, kids, just touch each other already. But I think I'm staying true to the characters I've designed--Suga's priorities will always be his little family, so that's why his sections feel so friend-focused. And Daichi decided in a previous chapter that he was going to take Iwa's advice and get to know Suga at his own pace, so that's what he's doing.
> 
> But never fear--there will finally FINALLY be overt romantic development in the next chapter. My Sugabear is a 0 to 100 kind of fellow. I love him.
> 
> Moving on, this is more personal and random, but I'm looking to read a lot of YA and NA books this spring, especially featuring diverse characters from ownvoices authors. I've gotten a lot of great suggestions from thebookavid.tumblr.com (omg her recs are awesome), but I want to know what you guys are reading! Have any recommendations for me???
> 
> Feel free to hit me up about anything, any time! positivecomet.tumblr.com


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Koushi does a lot of catching up with his friends, and Daichi does the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KISSES FOR THOSE OF YOU STILL FOLLOWING THIS FIC.

Koushi let those words into open air— _I think I’m going to kiss him_ —and it’s like taking a deep breath right before you throw yourself off a cliff. He forces himself to forget about it, and he doesn’t give Asahi time to ask him about it in the morning, either.

He insists on making Asahi breakfast—obscenely early, because neither of them sleep well when they’ve been drinking—and they spend a considerable amount of time sipping tea and talking about Asahi’s vacation. Koushi can’t seem to stop touching him, and eventually Asahi suggests that maybe Koushi should braid his hair. This seems to be a good compromise, though Koushi is shit at doing hair. But Asahi doesn’t complain as Koushi gently weaves sections of hair together before shaking it loose and starting over again.

“My mom insisted that you come with me next time,” Asahi says. “She told me that I let you work too much, and that you’ll put yourself in an early grave if we don’t intervene.”

Koushi scoffs, tugging just slightly at Asahi’s hair. “You work just as many hours as I do, and yours is physical labor.”

“But my job relaxes me.”

“My job is relaxing!” Koushi laughs.

Asahi takes a sip of his tea and doesn’t say anything. Koushi gives him a second before he leans forward and wraps his arms around Asahi’s neck, smooshing their faces together.

“You don’t think I’m relaxed?” he asks.

“I didn’t say anything,” Asahi says.

“That’s because you don’t like to criticize.” Koushi lets him go but ushers him up onto the couch cushion beside him. “I want you to be honest with me.”

“Koushi…” Asahi averts his eyes and taps the rim of his mug.

“I won’t be mad. Hey.” Koushi puts his hand over one of Asahi’s and waits until his dark, nervous gaze meets his. “I promise I’ll listen.”

Asahi pauses again before he huffs a sigh. Koushi watches him set his mug on the floor before he turns back and takes Koushi’s other hand.

“You sometimes have self-destructive behavior, and you know that,” Asahi says. “And the whole thing with Ko really bothers me. Because he’s not the kind of person to not get what he wants, and this is the first time you’ve effectively told him no. But now he thinks you’re with Oikawa, and that’s going to be, like, a challenge for him. Because you two used to make each other jealous on purpose a lot.”

Asahi’s awkward speech halts, and his eyes are fixed on a place right over Koushi’s shoulder. Koushi wants to say something, anything, to reassure his friend, but he has a feeling Asahi’s not done speaking. Giving his hands a little squeeze, Koushi waits until Asahi meets his gaze again before giving him a small, encouraging smile.

“Daichi makes you happy. I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s true,” Asahi says. “And I know you have a lot of trouble feeling happy. I know you feel guilty enough to avoid talking about Daichi with me, because you know I am lonely that way. And that you punish yourself for being happy when your mom goes off her meds. And that you don’t like relationships. But Daichi makes you happy, and I really, really don’t want to see you going back to how you were before him.”

Koushi swears that his heart stops dead in his chest. A bright pink is burning under Asahi’s cheeks, but his eyes are bright and determined and fixed so sharply on Koushi’s face that there can be no denying his words. 

His first instinct is to take his hands back, to put some distance between Asahi and how Asahi is making him feel. But he doesn’t. He grips Asahi’s hands all the harder and forces himself to feel, no matter how stripped down it leaves him.

He clears his throat and waits for Asahi’s little nod before releasing a small breath. “I’m not denying your feelings, or trying to avoid the conversation. But I want to state, for the record, that I don’t need a partner to be happy. I have you, and Shou, and Yama, and Takeda. And my mom, when she can be there. I have a good job that I love, and I have people who love me, and that’s all I need to be happy.”

“You were comfortable,” Asahi says. His mouth quirks a little in the corners. “But Daichi makes you uncomfortable in the best way.”

Koushi laughs. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means,” Asahi says, “that when I see you look at him, it always looks like you’re discovering the secrets of the universe.”

This time Koushi does pull away, violently, to bury his face in his hands. “Why would you say that?! You’re the worst. The literal worst. I want to die that was so disgustingly romantic.”

It’s just a moment or so before Asahi’s wrapping him in a tight hug. “You’re going to kiss him, Koushi.”

Koushi laughs. “God. Don’t remind me.”

 

It’s still too early to open when Koushi gets to the shop, but Asahi got him all wound up and he needs to keep his hands busy. He unlocks the front door and slips inside, keeping the house lights off so as not to confuse passersby. 

He’s just walking into the back office to throw his coat down when he’s startled by Takeda. His boss is hunkered over in his chair, his elbows digging into his knees, the heels of his hands pressed hard into his eyes. He’s totally disheveled, and his glasses are tossed haphazardly on his desk.

“Takeda-san?” Koushi calls gently.

Takeda startles, his hands flying out to grab his glasses. He clears his throat twice, quickly fixing his tie and wiping his face as Koushi takes a step in the room.

“Ah, Suga-kun, I wasn’t expecting you so early,” Takeda says. His voice cracks a little.

“Are you okay?”

Takeda huffs a laugh, but it sounds tired. He scrubs at his eyes again, bumping his glasses higher on his face. “Yes. Yes, I’m fine just…”

Koushi pulls out a stool from the corner and perches on it. He keeps his expression flat and his gaze steady as Takeda pulls himself together.

“It’s been a while since we sat like this together, hm?” Takeda says after a while.

“Too long,” Koushi agrees. “My fault, I think.”

“Oh, please.” Takeda dismisses the comment with a wave of his hand. “It’s not your responsibility to babysit me, Suga-kun. You’re allowed to have a life away from this place.”

“You’re family, too,” Koushi insists.

“Not the same way,” Takeda says, “and that’s okay.”

Koushi concedes to this, though his instinct is to argue. But Takeda is right—if anything, he’s the aloof big-brother to the rest. Koushi bounces his foot on the support of the stool, trying not to pry and knowing his expression belies that.

Takeda gives him a genuine grin. “Just some boy problems.”

“Oh no. Date not go well?” Koushi asks.

“It went extremely well!” Takeda says, emphatically shaking his head. “He was really nice. We went out a few times, actually.”

“And?”

“And I thought we were exclusive,” Takeda says. “But I assumed.”

“Oh, God.” Koushi leans over to press his hand into Takeda’s arm. “That’s the worst.”

“I mean, we could have been exclusive and then he could have cheated on me. That would have been worse.” 

“I guess,” Koushi says. “But it still hurts.”

Takeda smiles at him. “Enough of this. How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay. Busy.”

Takeda sits back in his chair and levels Koushi an unimpressed look. “That literally tells me nothing.”

Koushi laughs. “Well, I guess I’ll be transparent, then.”

Takeda smiles and gestures for him to continue. Koushi kicks his feet out while he mulls over what he wants to say.

“Hinata has been AWOL, because he’s with Kageyama all the time. Which is great, and I’m happy for them, but I miss him like crazy,” Koushi says.

“I noticed they were hanging around here a lot,” Takeda says. “And now it seems like neither of them are here.”

“Alone time, I suspect.” Koushi sighs and tilts his head. “Yama seems about the same, just more elusive than ever, if you can believe that. Asahi gave me a sit-down this morning about allowing myself to be happy, even if it means opening myself up to someone else.”

“Daichi?” Takeda guesses.

“Obviously.” Koushi kicks his feet out, watching his shoelaces flop as he does. “I’m going to kiss him.”

“Ah.” Takeda’s smile is all too knowing. “He’s worn you down, huh?”

“Not so much. He stopped trying to actively date me a little while ago.” Koushi shakes his head. “That was my problem. I got comfortable around him, and now I can’t look away.”

Takeda shrugs. “Not a bad thing.”

“You and Asahi are plotting against me,” Koushi groans.

“We don’t have to,” Takeda says. “When will you kiss him?”

Koushi stands and stretches. “I don’t know. Soon.”

 

It’s not even noon when Daichi witnesses one of the most awkward encounters of his life.

Normally he’s not too effected by awkwardness, especially if he’s not directly involved. It can be very funny to watch, and if it’s not funny, well, he has a knack for diverting attention away from someone shoving their feet in their mouth. 

He and Oikawa and Iwaizumi are on their way to the cafeteria, all just fresh out of a gen ed course they could take together. The weather is gorgeous, even warmer than it has been, and Iwaizumi is flaunting his arms in a tank top that has open sides down to his very last rib. Oikawa is chattering away about a concert he wants them all to go to, and Daichi is thrilled that he has a chance to wear the expensive sunglasses his mom had bought him for Christmas.

Overall, it’s a great day. 

Until it’s not.

The cafeteria is in sight when someone whistles long and loud. None of the boys react, because campus is packed right now, with everyone trying to soak up as much sun as they can. They even ignore the “Hey!” that follows them, engrossed with plans of travel and the possibility of affording tickets.

“Iwaizumi!”

That brings them to a halt. Iwaizumi turns on heel, his brow furrowed while he searches the courtyard. A small, slender guy is waving at them, his soft brown hair shaggy on the top and cut close to the scalp underneath. Daichi watches him approach, notes the bunch and pull of this guy’s legs—there’s no way he’s not a runner—and his v-neck layered under a lightweight flannel.

Daichi turns his eyes to Iwaizumi and knows instantly that this is bad. He’s stuck, rigid, his face stony but flushed. He’s looking at the guy, which wouldn’t be unusual if not for the fact that he’s very obviously _not_ looking at Oikawa.

Oikawa, on the other hand, can’t seem to stop moving. He shifts from foot to foot, eyes darting between Iwa and the guy. He quietly asks, “Who is that, Iwa-chan?” and gets no response.

Daichi tries to think of a good excuse to leave and drag Oikawa with him, but nothing he could think of would feasibly make Oikawa leave without a fuss. So he grips his backpack strap and hopes for the best.

“Iwaizumi!” the guy says again, bright smile lighting his handsome features.

“Yukimura,” Iwaizumi says.

“Look at you!” The guy—Yukimura—laughs, pulls Iwaizumi in for a hug. “I know it’s been a minute, but damn. I swear your arms are, like, twice as big.”

Iwaizumi’s mouth spasms in a way that could have been a smile, or maybe an aborted grimace. “This is, uh, Sawamura and Oikawa.”

“From the volleyball team, yeah.” Yukimura salutes them. “I’ve seen you in the gym, Sawamura. Your leg days are terrifying. Mad respect.”

“You work out there?” Daichi asks. He desperately wants to get attention away from the fact that Oikawa is unsuccessfully trying to meet Iwaizumi’s eye.

“No, not much of a gym rat myself. I just work there part time for my work-study,” Yukimura says. He turns his gaze back to Iwaizumi. “So, you lose my number or something?”  
Iwaizumi coughs and turns bright red. “Just, uh, been busy. You know.”

“I do,” Yukimura says. “But hit me up soon, okay? Unless you got someone else on the line?”

Iwaizumi rubs a hand through his hair. “No, I...I’ll text. You.”

Yukimura pauses, seeming to finally realize that something’s been off. His ears turn a little pink before he smiles and quickly excuses himself. 

There’s a few moments of absolute stillness before Oikawa clears his throat and turns away. “Are we going to eat, or what? I’m starving.”

Daichi waits until Iwaizumi starts following before he joins them. It’s silent all the way through the food line, to the table, and even when they start eating. Daichi desperately wants to break the tension, but he knows that he’ll only make it worse. He shovels food into his mouth and waits for the moment he can ditch them to hash this out without his leaving being obvious.

“Okay, let’s just do this,” Iwaizumi says suddenly. He tosses his chopsticks down on his tray and brings his frustrated gaze to Oikawa.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, his voice impressively level, “it’s fine.”

“I can go,” Daichi offers.

“No,” Iwaizumi says, “We’re going to do this now, because I can’t pretend like that didn’t happen.”

Oikawa levels each of them an unimpressed look. “Do you date boys, Iwa-chan?”

Despite his bravado, Iwaizumi turns bright red and flounders for a moment. “Well, date is a serious word—”

“Do you fuck them, then?”

This was bad. Oikawa’s voice is flat, almost bored. Daichi flicks a look at Iwaizumi, who is studying Oikawa’s face with an intensity the likes of which Daichi’s never seen. After a moment, Iwaizumi nods.

“And Dai-chan knew that, right?”

Iwaizumi glances at Daichi before returning his eyes back to Oikawa. Oikawa’s gaze doesn’t waver from Iwaizumi’s face.

“Yeah, he knows,” Iwaizumi says.

“Well, if Yukimura-kun hadn’t outed you, I doubt I would know any of this right now.” Oikawa flicks his hair to the side and scans the cafeteria with a coolness that has Daichi’s arm hairs standing up. “If we’re going to talk about this, I’d rather it be on your terms because you want me to know, rather than out of obligation.”

“It’s not oblige—”

“I don’t have anything else to say about it.”

Iwaizumi’s mouth moves into something resembling a snarl. “Listen, I know you’re mad—”

“Not because you like men.”

The fury behind that last statement has Daichi reeling. He’s at an angle where he can’t see Oikawa’s expression, but even as quietly as he’d spoken, there was more blistering force behind it than Daichi had ever expected from Oikawa. Detached condescension was something Daichi had come to associate with him. 

As shocked as Daichi is, Iwaizumi’s expression melts into something like resignation. Oikawa throws his chopsticks on the table, and the movement gives Iwaizumi an opening to reach out and put his fingers around Oikawa’s wrist.

“I know you’re not a bigot.”

“Do you?” Oikawa moves his face away from Iwaizumi, staring hard out at the rest of the cafeteria. There is still fire in his voice, but it’s more subdued now.

“Yes,” Iwaizumi says. His fingers flex on Oikawa’s wrist, and he waits until Oikawa flicks his gaze towards his face. _“Yes.”_

They maintain eye contact for a long moment before Oikawa drops his gaze. Iwaizumi pulls his hand away and scrubs the back of his fist across his eyes, a move that reminds Daichi of Kageyama.

“I’ve gotta go,” Iwaizumi says.

Oikawa doesn’t move or acknowledge Iwaizumi’s words until the stillness is long enough to get his attention. Iwaizumi is staring at Oikawa, hard.

“Yes?” Oikawa says.

“We’ll talk tonight, okay?” Iwaizumi says.

“Okay, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa sounds tired. His mouth pinches to the side as he looks down at his uneaten food.

Iwaizumi pauses, and there’s a moment where it looks like he’ll say something else. But he meets Daichi’s eyes, gives him a slight nod, and quickly disappears.

“Hey,” Daichi says.

Oikawa blinks up at him before a grin nearly splits his face in half. “Sorry about that, Dai-chan. Iwa-chan doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘relax.’”

“He knows he hurt you,” Daichi says carefully. “He’s trying to make up for that.”

“Everyone hurts each other at some point.” Oikawa shrugs. “His sex life isn’t any of my business. Just because we’re best friends doesn’t mean I’m entitled to know everything.”

Lies, Daichi wants to say. If this was about anyone else, Oikawa would be right. But it’s not anyone else. It’s Iwaizumi-and-Oikawa, Oikawa-and-Iwaizumi. Even their first year when Oikawa hadn’t been at this university, hadn’t even met any of Iwaizumi’s friends, everyone had understood that. 

But it’s not his business, so he keeps his mouth shut. Oikawa takes to rearranging his tray, clearly not interested in talking right now. Daichi respects that, and uses the time to text Iwaizumi.

To: Iwa  
>>u ok?

From: Iwa  
>>had 2 happen sooner or l8r  
>>don worry abt it  
>>c u @ practice

“Say, Dai-chan.”

“Yeah?” Daichi snaps his attention back to Oikawa, pocketing his phone.

Oikawa is staring out the cafeteria window, at the spot they had talked to Yukimura. “Do you maybe want to skip our next class and visit Suga-chan at work?” 

He feels his face soften into a smile. “I can definitely agree to that.”

 

Daichi takes a sip of his iced coffee and watches Suga attempt to teach Oikawa how to make the fancier drinks, some that aren’t even on the menu.

They hadn’t said anything about what happened, and Oikawa was acting as he always did around an audience. But Suga had taken one look at them, and his smile almost broke Daichi’s heart in half with the force of its kindness. He’d flirted with Oikawa, ganged up with him to tease Daichi, and had taken care of all his customers at the same time. Right when the rush slowed down, he pouted until Oikawa put on an apron, and they’d been whispering and giggling ever since.

Daichi didn’t believe in a perfect person, but he thought that Sugawara Koushi was probably pretty damn close.

He keeps his eye on the clock, making sure they’re not running out of time before practice, but before he can call a warning to Oikawa, Suga’s eyes meet his. There’s a small, quiet moment, before Suga winks. Daichi raises his eyebrows, but Suga’s attention is already back on Oikawa.

“Do you have dinner plans tonight?” Suga asks, bumping Oikawa with his hip.

“I think Iwa-chan and I were just going to heat up leftovers after practice,” Oikawa says. There’s a moment where something pulls across his expression, but he blinks it away.

“You should come to my place! I was going to make shabu-shabu tonight.”

“That sounds lovely,” Oikawa says. His smile droops as he fiddles with the stacks of to-go coffee cups. “I think Iwa-chan wanted to have a chat tonight, though.”

A hum of understanding bubbles from Suga’s throat, and he cuddles into Oikawa’s side. “Well, can we plan a rain-check? We can watch bad movies and drink cheap wine.”

Oikawa chuckles at Suga’s sing-songy voice. “That sounds really nice, Suga-chan. I’m sure Dai-chan would love for you to cook him dinner tonight, in my stead.”

Daichi looks up from his phone to catch Oikawa smirking at him. “Er, I wasn’t exactly invited—”

“Like I could turn you away, Daichi,” Suga says. There’s a sharpness to his eyes that ensnares Daichi immediately. “So, are you busy tonight?”

“No, actually, not after practice,” Daichi says. He can feel his ears burning, but he ignores it in favor of holding Suga’s gaze.

“Text me when you’re done, then,” Suga says.

Daichi grins and nods and lets Oikawa usher him from the shop. They bump shoulders as they head towards the gym, and Oikawa’s smile is dazzling when he turns it on Daichi.

“I got you a date with your sweetheart, Dai-chan!” Oikawa sings. “I must be the best friend ever!”

“You’re a great friend without sneaking me into hookups,” Daichi says. He closes his eyes to let the breeze kiss across his cheeks. “That was pretty smooth, though.”

“I am the king of smooth moves.”

Daichi barks a laugh, and Oikawa joins him. They’re quiet for a while, just enjoying the walk and the good weather.

“Tobio-chan seems happy, doesn’t he?”

Daichi looks over at Oikawa, curiosity spiking in his chest. “He does.”

“Chibi-chan must be good for him.”

“Yeah, Hinata’s a good guy.”

“Do you know much about him?”

Daichi laughs and jabs Oikawa in the ribs with his elbow. “What’s with the sudden interest?”

“Ah.” Oikawa suddenly looks awkward. “I mean, I do consider Kageyama a friend, even though…”

“Even though you irritate the shit out of him?” Daichi asks dryly.

“Mm.” Oikawa ruffles his hair, letting it fall gently back against his face. “I’m not very good at making friends.”

This time Daichi shoves Oikawa, laughing at the offended squawk he produces at the motion. “You might friends just fine, geez. What, do you think we just hang out with you because of Iwa?”

There’s a pause that lasts way too long. Daichi stops walking, right in the middle of a crosswalk, causing Oikawa to turn back with wide eyes.

“Dai-chan, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Daichi stares at him, hard. “You can’t honestly think that.”

“Seriously, Daichi, you have three seconds before they run you over.”

Daichi joins him on the sidewalk, but snags Oikawa’s elbow before he can get any farther. “Oikawa—”

“We’re going to be late if we don’t keep going.” Oikawa pulls away a little, his face pink and pointedly not looking Daichi’s way.

“I was Iwaizumi’s friend first, but I don’t hang out with you because of that. You’re my friend, too. Same with the rest of the team, same with Suga and Asahi. We like you because we like _you_ , not just because we like the people you hang out with.”

Daichi releases Oikawa’s arm, moving past him down the sidewalk. Oikawa catches up in a few short strides, and he can’t seem to stop fidgeting, with his hair, his clothes.

“I’m not mad,” Daichi says as they enter the gym.

“You sounded pretty mad,” Oikawa says.

It’s not the flat voice from his confrontation with Iwaizumi early, and it’s not the coolness he uses during matches or when dealing with assholes. It’s strong while still holding a tremor of vulnerability. 

“Not mad…incredulous, I guess.” Daichi scratches his neck and huffs a little laugh. “But you know, not it makes sense why you always turn down my offers to hang out at my place. Jesus, Oikawa, we’ve been friends for two years now.”

“I know, I know.” Oikawa waves his hand vaguely in the air. “Tell that to my brain, though.”

Daichi hauls Oikawa to a stop right inside the locker room doors and reaches up to grab Oikawa’s face in his hands. He cradles Oikawa’s cheeks, smooshes them together a little so his lips pucker under his wide, clear eyes.

“Oi,” Daichi says almost against Oikawa’s forehead. “Oikawa Tooru is my fucking friend, so you can just fuck right off with all the negative bullshit.”

There were some catcalls from the guys changing out, and one very emphatic, “Get it, Daichi!”

Oikawa slaps his hands over his face and whines under the attention. When Daichi moves towards his locker, he sees Iwaizumi. He’s frozen, shirt barely past his elbows, watching Oikawa with an unreadable gaze. After a moment, he flicks his eyes towards Daichi. His mouth quirks up a little in the corner, even though it doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns back to his locker, pulling his shirt back over his head without a word.

 

“So, tell me about your day.”

Koushi pops some food in his mouth, chewing and watching Daichi watch him. He swallows, tips his head to the side. “Well, I made coffee.”

Daichi’s expression turns as flat as fresh pavement. Koushi laughs hard enough at the sentiment that Daichi’s lips twitch in response.

“You’re an asshole.”

“I made a lot of coffee,” Koushi amends.

“Somehow, that’s not any better.”

They laugh before Daichi busies himself by dipping more meat into the pot and removing it after a few moments, blowing on it before popping it in his mouth. Koushi watches him, fondness sloshing around inside his lungs. He feels a stab of nervousness through his system, and he blink, shifting in his chair.

“Well, let’s see.” 

Daichi grabs some vegetables out of the pot before locking eyes with Koushi again. 

“I started my morning a tad hungover—don’t laugh, it wasn’t as bad as you’d expect with how much I drank—and then I made us breakfast, and I had to convince Asahi to lecture me—”

“Woah, woah, wait a minute.” Daichi slaps down his chopsticks. “There is so much going on with that last statement.”

“Oh yeah?” Koushi leans forward across the table. “Like what?”

“The fact that you had to _convince_ Asahi, a grown-ass man who could probably break you in half, to lecture you? I mean, what could Asahi, the giant marshmallow human, possibly have to lecture you about?”

Koushi grins, propping his cheek against his fist. “You, actually.”

Daichi blinks, surprise flitting across his features for a moment. A grin slides slow across his mouth, dimpling his cheeks, warming his eyes. Setting off fireworks in Koushi’s chest. 

“That right?” Daichi says.

“It is.” 

Daichi leans towards Koushi, his eyes flicking down to Koushi’s mouth. “Only good things, I hope.”

There’s a brief pause, but Koushi can feel it in every cell in his body. He watches Daichi watch him, feels the slight shortening of his breath in his chest, the harder beat of his heart. He could do it right now, he thinks. He could just push up on his toes a little, tilt his head and drink that flirty confidence right from Daichi’s mouth.

He feels himself pull back, just a little. Daichi must notice, because his eyes move back to Koushi’s, intense but patient. Permissive.

“Ehh.” Koushi ends the moment when he scrunches his face, his nose crinkling in faux-thought.

“Hey!” Daichi leans back, his eyes crinkling as he laughs.

“You’re so easy to tease, Dai-chan,” Koushi says, perfectly imitating Oikawa’s tone as he flicks his hair to the side.

“Holy shit.” Daichi’s grin drops off his face before returning with a vengeance. “That’s delightfully horrifying.”

“Thanks, I’ll be here all week.”

There is no awkwardness, just acceptance and friendship. But Koushi feels the tension from the near-kiss like a rock in his stomach. His heart refuses to stop pounding.

They finish up eating, throwing the leftovers in the fridge and the dishes in the sink before migrating to the living room, a few beers in hand.

“How did you find this place?” Daichi asks as Koushi pops a DVD in the player.

“Well, I used to live in a smaller, shittier place. But Takeda helped me to get this place once I started making a little money.” Koushi flops down on the couch, wondering if it’s weird that he left a cushion between them.

“I myself live in a smaller, shittier place,” Daichi says. “But it’s a one-bedroom.”

“So’s this place,” Koushi says, “doesn’t feel like it, though, right?”

“Not at all.” Daichi’s eyes move around the living room. “The rooms are big.”

“They are.”

Koushi briefly entertains the thought of offering Daichi a tour, but that would just end up with them in his bedroom, and something about that seems sleezy. Not that Koushi has ever backed down from being sleezy, but he’s man enough to admit that whatever he’s doing with Daichi, it’s more than that.

They fall into comfortable silence, both relaxing into the couch as the movie wears on.

“This woman,” Daichi scoffs about halfway through.

Koushi glances over at Daichi. “What’s wrong with her?”

“Her acting is horrible.”

“I’ve seen worse,” Koushi says.

“Probably not much worse. I mean, can you believe she got paid for this shit?” Daichi leans onto the middle cushion, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Trust me, there are worst actors.” Koushi scoots down on the couch, bringing him eye level with Daichi.

“I want to see them,” Daichi says. “I want to see who could possibly be so bad that they make this girl not-so-bad in your opinion.”

They laugh, and Daichi turns to look at Koushi. They’re startling close, and the blue light from the TV is casting shadows over Daichi’s face, outlining the cut of his jaw, the impressive line of his nose. Koushi lets out a small breath as he watches Daichi’s lips part, his dark eyes shining and steady on Koushi’s face.

The moment hangs there, suspended, and Koushi knows this is it, feels it zipping across his skin like electricity, curling his toes with the anticipation of Daichi’s mouth on his. They’ve been working towards this moment from the first time they laid eyes on each other.

The loud buzzing of Daichi’s phone on the coffee table startles them, forces Koushi to flinch back with wide eyes. Daichi jerks out and grabs the cell, quickly reading the message. He huffs a sigh, staring hard at the screen before glancing at Koushi.

“It’s Iwa,” he says. “I think I gotta go meet him.”

“Is everything okay?” Koushi asks. He’s incredibly proud of how level his voice is, even though it feels like someone kicked him in the chest.

“They, uh, had a—well, maybe like a non-fight? I dunno, Iwaizumi was obviously messed up over it and Oikawa—”

“Was sad. Like, major depression weight sadness.”

Daichi glances over at him and nods a little. “He wanted to see you, after Iwaizumi left. That’s why we came.”

A wave of love threatens to down Koushi as he takes that in. “God, he’s so sweet.”

“You treat him gently,” Daichi says. He sits up properly on the couch, watching Koushi do the same. “I think he needs more of that. God knows Iwaizumi and I aren’t known for our soft touch.”

Koushi smiles and nods a little, following Daichi as he wanders out into the hall and sits on the small step to put his shoes on.

“He implied that we’re only his friends because we like Iwaizumi.” Daichi sits up, a frown creasing his features. “Or, I joked that he thought that and he didn’t refute it, I guess.”

“I hope you set him straight,” Koushi murmurs. He leans against the wall while Daichi finishes and sits back.

“Trust me, I did.” Daichi stands, patting his hands on his jeans as he looks at Koushi. “I’m sorry I have to cut this short.”

Koushi waves that thought away. “Trust me, I would have done the same thing. Family first.”

Daichi nods, warmth relaxing across his features. They stand there for a beat, Koushi rubbing his hands across his biceps, Daichi stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Well,” Daichi says.

“Text me and let me know if Iwaizumi’s okay?” Koushi asks. He suddenly finds it very hard to meet Daichi’s eye.

“I will.”

Koushi clears his throat and steps forward, tugging the door open. Daichi side-steps him, and they meet eyes briefly before Daichi gives him a grin and leaves. Koushi shuts the door, his chest tight with disappointment.

“Damn,” he mutters. “What the hell.”

He sighs and covers his face, feeling particularly embarrassed for no good reason. Just because he wanted to kiss Daichi didn’t mean that he had to do it right away. This seemed like a big responsibility—this wasn’t just a hook up. He wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, but he knew that this was different. That kissing Daichi wouldn’t be something he could laugh off after it happened.

That didn’t make him feel like any less of a coward. Daichi was sweet enough to give him patience, and space, and respect, and Koushi couldn’t even kiss him.

Only slightly reassured, he turned and took a few steps away from the door. He’s brought to a halt by three sharp knocks. He feels those knocks in his bones.

He spins and yanks the door open to Daichi’s startled face. They hold each other’s eyes a moment.

“I just.” Daichi clears his throat and rubs the back of his pink neck. “Was I reading that wrong, or—”

Koushi springs forward, cupping that strong jaw and pulling Daichi closer so he can slot their mouths together. It’s quick, and chaste, but he’s just about breathless as he pulls back. Daichi blinks, surprised, and Koushi finds himself biting his lip.

“Sorry—”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush so hard.” Daichi takes Koushi’s shirt in hand and pulls him closer. “You’re stunning.”

And then they’re kissing again, and it’s not chaste, not with the way Daichi sucks Koushi’s bottom lip into his mouth and swallows his gasp, with the way Daichi groans low in his chest when Koushi slides his fingers into Daichi’s hair and tugs slightly. 

Koushi hadn’t even noticed that he’d closed his front door until Daichi’s pushing him up against it, a leg moving between Koushi’s thighs. Heat explodes under his skin, and he sucks in a breath, trembling at the smell of the bright, earthy body wash Daichi must have used after practice. 

Daichi breaks away suddenly, burying his nose in the juncture of Koushi’s neck and shoulder. Koushi tips his head back, chest heaving, eyes screwed shut because _holy shit_ was that worth the wait.

“I think I, uh, got carried away a little.” Daichi’s voice rumbles low against Koushi’s skin.

Koushi laughs a little breathlessly, his hands slipping to Daichi’s sides. He pulls him in closer, encourages Daichi to rest more of his wonderful weight against him. There’s so much heat between them, and for the first time maybe ever, Koushi feels okay leaving it here, for next time. Because he believes that there will definitely be a next time.

Daichi takes a deep breath, presses his mouth to Koushi’s neck, a firm stamp of affection before he pulls back. He smiles, though it seems a tad strained. “Iwaizumi.”

“I know,” Koushi says. “Go.”

“I’ll call you,” Daichi promises. “And we can talk.”

“Texting’s fine,” Koushi raises an eyebrow.

Daichi kisses him again, soft and fluid, his lips leading Koushi’s in a kiss that had him igniting for a totally different reason.

“I’ll call you,” Daichi says again.

He steps back, running a hand down Koushi’s arm until just their fingers are touching, and then breaking contact as he gets too far for Koushi’s reach. He’s grinning, probably wider than Koushi’s ever seen him, and Koushi can’t help slapping a hand over his own stupid grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, it's been two months!
> 
> Good news--I'm 40 pages away from being at my required page limit for my thesis. Yay! The novel persists!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, because it was a lot of fun to write. I don't actually know how to flirt in real life, but I think I do an admirable job of writing it? It's a good time writing, anyway. Hope it's just as fun to read!
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr to rant and rave about anything to do with these volleynerds.
> 
> positivecomet.tumblr.com


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daichi's emotions are tangled because of Iwaizumi, and Koushi's emotions are just tangled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody still following this?? Ayyyyyyyy

Daichi pounds on Iwaizumi’s door and waits a total of ten minutes before he fishes out his spare key and opens the door himself.

He’d had the key since their first year, when he and Iwaizumi had been spending more time together than with anyone else. He remembers how hard his heart was pounding when, during a drunken hangout, Iwaizumi had suggested swapping keys. 

“Just in case,” he’d said.

Daichi hadn’t been in his right mind to ask what that meant. Looking back on it now, his crush had been embarrassing and super obvious. It hadn’t taken him long to realize that there was no room in Iwaizumi’s life for the things that Daichi wanted. He was just thankful that as transparent as he was, Iwaizumi was just as dense.

As he steps inside Iwaizumi’s and Oikawa’s apartment, he wonders if Iwaizumi had known there would be times when he needed Daichi to let himself in. It was times like this when Daichi usually finds Iwaizumi—

He rounds the corner into their living room, and there he is. The television is on, but the volume is too low to hear anything specific. Instead, the images flicker light over the body lying still and motionless on the floor in front of it. 

“Iwa,” Daichi says.

Iwaizumi’s foot twitches and flexes, but he doesn’t move otherwise. With a sigh, Daichi moves beside him and gently pushes him over. Iwaizumi groans, squinting up at Daichi. After a moment, a crooked grin slides across his mouth. 

“You came,” he says. His words are heavy and slow with alcohol, but he isn’t slurring.

“Did you drink all the booze, or did you leave some for me?” Daichi asks wryly. 

“Eh.” Iwaizumi waves vaguely in the direction of the couch.

Daichi hunts around in the sofa cushions until he produces a bottle of vodka. He wrinkles his nose before taking a large swig. Iwaizumi laughs at him from the floor at the face he makes when he pulls the bottle away from his mouth.

“Oh, God,” Daichi groans.

“Be determined, Daichi, c’mon.”

Daichi huffs, but he does entertain his friend by taking another gulp from the bottle. Iwaizumi chuckles—it’s closer to a giggle, really, but he would never be able to describe any sound that comes out of Iwaizumi a _giggle_ —and folds his arms behind his head. Daichi plunks down next to him and pokes him in the side.

“It’s been a while since you’ve had to be on the floor,” Daichi says.

“I was, uh, drinking beer before this.” 

Daichi hums. His stomach burns a little from the cheap alcohol, and there are questions bubbling up his throat. It takes some effort, but he holds them back. He knows that Iwaizumi will talk when he’s ready.

“You at Suga’s place?” Iwaizumi says after a few moments of silence.

“He made me dinner, yeah,” Daichi says.

“And?”

“And he’s a good cook.”

Iwaizumi scoffs and punches Daichi’s thigh. Daichi laughs even as he rubs ruthlessly at the spot. “Hey!”

“Don’t be a shithead,” Iwaizumi growls.

“I’ll trade a truth for a truth, how about that?”

Iwaizumi frowns and stares at Daichi’s chest for a moment before rolling onto his stomach. His side bumps into Daichi’s bent knee and stays there, pressing warmth through Daichi’s jeans. Iwaizumi refolds his arms and rests his head on them, the frown still digging a wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Fine,” Iwaizumi says. “I came out to Oikawa.”

Daichi slaps his shoulder. “That definitely doesn’t count, because I was there.”

“No, no, I mean…” Iwaizumi stuffs his mouth into the crook of his elbow, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Daichi’s heart clenches. He knew that his friends were going through something, but he had been so focused on Oikawa all day that he hadn’t stopped to think about Iwaizumi past his flippant reassurances. After a moment, Daichi put his hand back on Iwaizumi’s shoulder and just holds it there.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Daichi says.

“When we were kids, Oikawa’s dad was kind of an asshole,” Iwaizumi says suddenly. “Like, he was always pushing Oikawa to be stronger, and, like, more manly. Because when we were little, he used to cry a lot and was afraid of everything.”

“Jeez,” Daichi mutters.

“Yeah, I—I fucking hated him. I always made Oikawa come over to our place, until his dad left his mom and moved away. Because he just pissed me off all the time. Like, Oikawa was whiney and clingy and a pain in the ass, but he was perfect, you know?” Iwaizumi’s voice is shaking by the end.

Daichi presses harder into Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “I know. He’s still all of those things.”

Iwaizumi lets out a surprised laugh. “Yeah. Oikawa’s dad used to talk shit about Oikawa’s uncle all the time, because he dated a guy when they were in high school. I mean, he ended up marrying a girl and having kids and shit, but Oikawa’s dad never got over it? It used to drive me fucking nuts, man, and that was before I’d even looked at _anyone_ like that.”

Iwaizumi’s too-serious response to Oikawa’s anger flits across Daichi’s mind: _I know you’re not a bigot._

And Oikawa’s worn down response: _Do you?_

“Shit,” Daichi breathes.

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi’s shoulders tense, and his breathing hitches under Daichi’s hand. “I didn’t even think he’d take it like that.”

“He must know that.”

“Why would he?” Iwaizumi’s voice cracks around its own bitterness. “He doesn’t know that I didn’t tell him because I love—”

They both freeze. It’s not like this was much of a secret to them—or anyone else who really knows them—but Daichi has never actually heard Iwaizumi get anywhere near talking about the depth of his feelings for Oikawa, unless he meant in a more platonic way. 

“Iwa,” Daichi murmurs.

Iwaizumi sucks in a short, thin breath, and then he’s crying. 

Daichi’s on his knees in a flash, digging his hands under Iwaizumi’s side and forcing him to flip over. Iwaizumi keeps his face covered with his hands, and he tries to curl in on himself. Daichi convinces him to sit up a little, and then he pulls Iwaizumi in against himself.

“Shit,” Iwaizumi hiccups, though it’s still gruff enough that it could be considered a growl. His hands come off his face, but he hides in the crook of Daichi’s neck.

“It’s fine,” Daichi says. He won’t lie—he’s struggling not to cry himself as he wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s back. “I’ve got you.”

So Iwaizumi lets go. He tries to stifle his sobs against Daichi’s shoulder, but he’s spent too much time shoving these feelings down. Daichi steels himself against the grief as best he can, and if he sheds a few tears, too, well. Who can blame him.

 

Koushi wishes he were the kind of person who could relax, who could just sit back and enjoy something good when it comes along.

But.

It only takes half an hour after Daichi leaves for Koushi to feel that heavy knot in his stomach, for him to pace around until he thinks his apartment will drive him insane. It’s not that he regrets the kiss (how could he, after Daichi had made him feel so much while doing so little?), and it’s not that he thinks Daichi will regret it. He doesn’t know where the negativity is welling up from. Maybe he’s afraid of not living up to Daichi’s expectations, after so much time, so much build up.

God, there’s a thought. To quell the horror that threatens to overwhelm him, he brushes his teeth, changes into an oversized t-shirt, and crawls into bed.

He thinks about texting Shou, but then remembers that he had a date with Kageyama tonight. Koushi blows out a breath. How long has it been since Shouyo dropped by unannounced, breathless, windblown, begging for a little of whatever Koushi was about to cook?

The answer is simple. It’s been quite a while.

He unlocks his phone and poks at his apps for a while. He texts Yamaguchi, just to see what he's up to. Predictably, he doesn't get a response. Koushi wonders for the first time in a while what Yamaguchi does when he disappears from their sight. He’s only known Yamaguchi for about a year, but he wishes that Yamaguchi trusted him enough to tell him what was going on.

He could text Asahi, but before he does, his mind strays towards his mother. He knows that she’s doing well, because he hasn’t heard from her—or from her neighbors—in several weeks. He feels guilty that this is such a relief to him, but it’s draining to try and take care of her from miles away.

Bringing up her phone number, Koushi taps on the call icon. He chews his lip while the phone rings, feeling jittery and anxious.

She picks up right before it goes to voicemail. The noise behind her almost overwhelms her breathless, “Hello?”

“Hey, mom.”

“Koushi!”

“Where are you?” He rolls onto his stomach, hugging a pillow to his chest.

“Oh, Linda asked me to go to the bar with her after work—you remember her, right?”

“I think so. She’s from Chicago, right?” Koushi feels a hollow pang in his heart. He’s glad she’s doing well, but he wishes she would include him in this part of her life.

“She is!” There’s some giggling behind her, and some static as his mother covers the receiver with her hand to answer. She’s laughing when she comes back on the line. “Koushi, I’m going outside so I can, uh, hear you better.”

“No, it’s okay,” he says. “I was just calling to catch up. I want you to have fun!”

There’s a short pause. “You sure?”

“Yes.” He forces a smile on his face, even though she isn’t there to see it. “You can call me sometime when you’re free.”

“Okay, baby.” Her voice is bubbly and happy. “I love you!”

“Love you, too,” he says.

The call ends. Koushi lets his eyes slip closed as the phone turns dark in his hand. He has the distinct feeling of loss, of _missing something._ It might not be normal to want to go to a bar with your mother, but Koushi wants to anyway. He wants to watch her laugh and have fun. He wants her to want him, even when she doesn’t need him.

I should call Asahi, Koushi thinks. Asahi never likes to let him spiral like this alone. He sucks in a slow, deep breath. Holds it for a few moments. Lets it out.

He will not call Asahi for the same reasons he wishes his mother would call him. Asahi is too good of a friend, of a person, for him to feel like all Koushi does is rely on him when he needs him, rather than when he wants him. Which is basically all the time.

I’m such a burden, Koushi thinks. He suddenly feels horrible about the fact that he chased Asahi down and forced his friendship upon him.

It’s then that Koushi’s phone pings, startling him out of his plummeting mood. He brings the screen to his face, squints at it through the dark. It’s Daichi, because of course it is. Koushi debates, like, _seriously_ debates not opening it. But then a second message chimes through. Whatever’s going on, Koushi can’t resist Daichi’s pull.

From: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>IMG.jpg  
>>im gonna die here

Koushi downloads the picture. Daichi had held his phone as far away as possible to get both he and Iwaizumi in the frame. They are stretched out on the couch, with Daichi’s head against the arm rest. Iwaizumi is face-down on top of Daichi, his forehead pressed to Daichi’s neck, mouth open and drooling a little. Daichi’s smile is crooked and wide. Like he’s thinking about what Iwaizumi would say about the fact that this event had been documented and shared.

To: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>You, dead? I’m going to die from the cuteness overload

From: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>MOV.jpg

When Koushi opens the video, it’s a close-up of Daichi’s face. His lips are pressed thin, and his expression is not amused. Iwaizumi’s spiky hair is stabbing him in the cheek, and his snoring is deep and _loud._ Koushi’s mouth twitches with a smile he can’t quite bring to fruition.

To: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>STOP, I’M SERIOUS.

From: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>glad ur amused  
>>srry i cant call u

To: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>Don’t be! I told you that texting was fine

From: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>i no hes just rlly drunk

To: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>Did it not go well?

From: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>idk he wouldnt rlly talk about it  
>>hes said some stuff nd i think everythins fine  
>>but hes not good at handling his emotions

To: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>That makes me sad (´；ω；`)

They text lazily back and forth for a few moments, but he’s suddenly overcome with worry for Oikawa. If whatever happened earlier was enough to make him so heavy with sadness, what happened during their talk to make Iwaizumi drink so much? It doesn’t take him long before he breaks down and asks Daichi for Oikawa’s number. Daichi gives it to him without even asking why he wants it. He probably already knows.

Koushi writes, deletes, and rewrites his text too many times. His nerves almost have him chickening out. Is this even his business? But no, Oikawa isn’t the kind of person who would push off this extended hand of friendship. Eventually, he takes a deep breath and hits send.

To: Oikawa-kun  
>>Hey, you! It’s Suga (*^▽^*) I hope it’s okay that Daichi gave me your number!

There’s a slight delay, and then his phone pings.

From: Oikawa-kun  
>>Suga-chan! I’d never be anything but thrilled that you have my number!  
>>How did your dinner go? Was Dai-chan ruggedly charming as usual?  
>>Did he kiss you???  
>>OMG IS HE STILL THERE!? (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))

The rapid-fire texts have Koushi smiling for real. He flops over onto his back to type out a response.

To: Oikawa-kum  
>>No, I sent him home a while ago

The little bubble pops up that indicates Oikawa is typing. It disappears. Koushi gnaws on his lip while he waits. The chat bubble appears and disappears several times. Finally, Oikawa seems to determine what he wants to say.

From: Oikawa-kun  
>>He left to be with Iwa-chan, didn’t he?  
>>I’m sorry, Suga-chan. We ruined your little date night ( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ )

To: Oikawa-kun  
>>You didn’t ruin anything! We had a lovely evening  
>> ( ˘ ³˘)♥

From: Oikawa-kun  
>>WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!?  
>>Did he kiss you?  
>>DID YOU KISS HIM!?

Koushi grins before firing off a response. His stomach is still tense and unhappy, but Oikawa is helping him if only a little.

To: Oikawa-kun  
>>That was a kiss meant to reassure you that the evening was fine  
>>Here’s another for you ヽ(*´з｀*)ﾉ

From: Oikawa-kun  
>>Dai-chan will be jealous, with you sending me all these virtual kisses

To: Oikawa-kun  
>>Daichi knows of my love for you. He would never say anything against it (づ￣ ³￣)づ

From: Oikawa-kun  
>>Suga-kun, you abominable flirt  
>>Please don’t ever stop.  
>>So you didn’t kiss each other?

To: Oikawa-kun  
>>A gentleman never kisses and tells

After Koushi’s done scrolling through the explosion of texts that gets him, he reopens his texts to Daichi, which have dropped off.

To: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>I love Oikawa. So. Much.

From: Sawamura Thigh-chi  
>>i no i was a goner 4 u wen u included them in your fam  
>>IMG.jpg

It’s a photo of his sleepy face, but the background has changed. He’s in bed—Iwaizumi’s, Koushi suspects—and though Iwaizumi is still clinging to him, he’s been divested of his shirt. Daichi’s replaced his shirt with a tank top, which is odd. He usually doesn’t wear shirts to bed.

It sends a hot thrill rolling down Koushi’s spine that he knows this.

He sends his own sleepy-faced photo, and bids Daichi goodnight. He shouldn’t be surprised by the _god ur so beautiful_ text he gets in response, but it still brings a pleased flush to his face.

When the texts stop rolling in, the darkness seeps through Koushi’s mind again. He thinks that he should try and get to sleep before it’s too late and he’s up all night overthinking everything. There’s only a few more moments of this debate before his phone starts ringing. He doesn’t even need to check the caller-ID. He knows who it is. Answering it, he clicks off the bedside lamp and snuggles down.

“You never called,” Asahi says, voice soft. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, no. Sorry. I was texting and lost track of time,” Koushi says. He tries to convince himself it’s not a lie. As he’s thinking this, he yawns, wide and loud.

Asahi’s deep laugh rumbles through the speaker. “We don’t have to talk.”

“No! Seriously, tell me about your day.”

“I’m teaching Hinata to trim the hedges,” Asahi says. “Giving him power tools is bad for my anxiety. I can’t stop, like, hovering? He’s decent at it, I just…”

“Can’t leave the baby on his own?” Koushi smirks.

“Yeah. Yeah, I mean, that’s totally right.”

“Are you drinking enough water?” Koushi picks at the edge of his pillowcase, his eyes settling in to the darkness of his room. “The sun’s been so warm.”

“Yes, I carry around that water bottle you got me for my birthday. You’re right, it does keep things cooler a lot longer.”

“I’m thinking about getting Shou one,” Koushi says. “Though I read a study about room temperature water being healthier when you’re overheated.”

Asahi hums. “How’s Yamaguchi?”

“Seems okay,” Koushi says. “I told you about that blonde boy, right?”

“Yeah. He come in again?”

“No. But that feels kind of purposeful? Like, with that interaction, that kid should have been coming back every day.”

“Maybe you’re projecting.”

Koushi opens his mouth around a retort, but his phone vibrates loudly, scaring him. He yanks the screen away from his cheek and squints at the incoming message.

From: Sunshine Kid  
>>HES MY BF  
>>HE KISSED ME  
>>IM SO HAPPYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“Did you get those texts, too?” Asahi’s voice floats from the speakers.

Koushi shoots off a bunch of emojis to Shou and then puts the screen back to his ear. Koushi tries to breathe around the throbbing of his heart. “Yes, I did.”

“I’m happy for them,” Asahi says. “Kageyama-kun seems nice.”

“He is.” Koushi squeezes his eyes shut and lets his heart clench. “He’s getting farther away from us, Asahi.”

“He’ll come around. We just have to let him settle into the newness of it.”

Koushi debates if he wants to be truly—awfully—honest, and blows out a breath. If there’s anyone he can say it to, it’s Asahi.

“He’s forgetting us,” he whispers.

“Koushi.” Asahi’s tone is too soft to be chastising, but it still makes Koushi feel selfish.

“I know.”

“He’s just got a one-track mind is all.”

“I know.”

“He’ll come back around, I know it. Just give them some time.”

There’s some silence where Koushi keeps his eyes shut tight against the burn he was starting to feel there.

“This is more than that, isn’t it?” Asahi asks.

“Yama’s keeping secrets from us,” Koushi says.

“You know he’s not good at opening up. I didn’t even know he was bisexual until you told me.”

Koushi sticks his thumb in his mouth and bites at the skin. “I still feel bad about that.” 

“He didn’t care. That’s—that’s not the point, anyway. I’m saying that when he’s ready, he’ll let us know. He’s… squirrely.”

Koushi huffs a laugh. “Takeda was crying in the stock room this morning. I feel totally disconnected from him lately, with him building up the pastry business. And you…” 

He stops. His words turn to stone in his throat, his stomach. He suddenly feels weighed down, choking. This, he recognizes, is his mother’s sadness. Fitting that when she’s her happiest, he can’t seem to get there, too. Maybe they’ll spend their lives passing it back and forth, never existing on the same plane together. It’s all he can do to breathe around it.

“We talk on the phone every night,” Asahi says, carefully.

“I’m sorry,” Koushi whispers.

“Don’t apologize,” Asahi responds, his voice urgent. 

“I had such a nice night.”

“Mood swings are normal. You’re allowed to feel your feelings. No one can tell you what the right way to feel them is, especially if they’re not hurting anyone.”

“I know I’m needy. I don’t want to make you feel bad,” Koushi says.

“I was away for a while,” Asahi agrees. “I missed you, too. A lot.”

Koushi’s eyes _burn._ He forces his breathing back to something calm, but the overwhelming rush of affection for Asahi almost tugs him down to something deeper. He tries to force it into words, but it’s difficult.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Asahi says, not quite a command. 

“This is what I mean,” Koushi says, frustration flaring. “This is why I don’t want to date anyone.”

“Because of your moods?”

“Because I don’t think I can need someone the way I need you guys,” Koushi corrects.

Asahi’s silent for a few moments, but it’s a thoughtful pause. Koushi kicks his sheets away while he waits, and then drags them back over his legs when they get cold.

“I think it’s okay that what you need isn’t all stuffed into one person,” Asahi says. “I think that every person you truly love has something in them that you need. And I think it’s okay to recognize that a partner can give you some things that your friends or family can’t.”

“Like sex.”

Asahi hums. “More than that, I think. A new level of intimacy.”

Koushi thinks of the way Daichi’s hands had felt on his hips, the way he’d moved his mouth against Koushi’s as if they already spoke the language of each other’s bodies. He bats at the fear in his chest until it subsides, trying to keep Asahi’s musings at the front of his mind.

“I need you, too, you know,” Asahi says. “Maybe a different way than Hinata, or Yamaguchi, or Takeda. Or Daichi. But I still need you.”

“Daichi doesn’t need me,” Koushi says.

“Not yet. But he will.”

That fear is back in a heartbeat. “That’s terrifying, Asahi.”

“Give it time,” Asahi says.

“Okay, okay.” Koushi checks the time on his phone. “It’s late. I should let you go.”

“Maybe we could just not hang up?” Asahi’s tone is suddenly shy, like they haven’t done this countless times before.

“Of course,” Koushi says. 

Relief positively floods through him. It’s not the same as Asahi’s large, warm shape under the blankets with him, but it’s better than being alone. He hopes Asahi can hear his small smile as he puts his phone on speaker and sets it on the bed next to him.

There’s the sound of shuffling from the other side of the speakers. And then, “Goodnight, Koushi.”

“Love you, Asahi.”

“I love you, too.”

Koushi falls backward into sleep not long after, Asahi’s steady breathing coming clearly through the phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still prioritizing updates over grammar checks. I apologize in advance for whatever you make stumble across.
> 
> And this is where I generally make excuses for my absence and promise to be better? But let's be real. If you're still here, know I love and appreciate you~~ <3
> 
> I'm always over on positivecomet.tumblr.com if you want to chat.
> 
> Also, if you guys really like my work, please consider buying me a virtual coffee! http://ko-fi.com/positivecomet


End file.
